The Buck Stops Here

What’s on my mind? As the snow bucketed down three nights ago, I poked my nose out the front door. I wanted to smell its freshness. I wanted to immerse myself in its quiet. Most of all, I wanted to watch it - white feathers, floating down. When you live in a place where it rarely snows, snow is a magical thing.

What I saw were tracks - likely, a deer’s - coming up the sidewalk to stop at the front door. I imagined the deer resting on the mat, seeking refuge from the cold. She must have leaped from mat to garden: The tracks showed her arrival, but not her departure. Curious.

The garden’s fresh snow showed deep leg holes just outside the window - evidence that the deer had vaulted from mat to garden in one giant leap for deer-kind.

When this happened two snowy nights in a row, and when our cedar hedge showed nibble-nibble signs of becoming a buffet, I told Himself: “We’ll leave carrots and lettuce at the door tonight!” 

My daughter tongue-in-cheek suggested leaving the door open so the deer could warm herself by the fire. Snow and deer poop in the garden is one thing; snow and deer poop in the living room, quite another. Unless you fancy venison, of course.

Our fridge was well stocked: “This deer deserves a proper meal!”  I left a plate of chopped carrots and lettuce beside the mat, where the deer could munch, rest, and overhear Seinfeld re-runs in comfort.

(She? How did I know? She could have been a he. We once saw a four-point buck in the garden, the remnants of Ron’s prize rhododendron dangling from his mouth. No sane homeowner messes with a buck. We let him be.) 

I rose early the next morning to see … More animal tracks! Many, many more! 

Although the lettuce and carrots were untouched, the sidewalk snow showed the comings and goings of small and large animals that may have included rabbits, and …

Me: “ Himself! Wake up, Himself! A cougar walked up the sidewalk last night!”

He: “Mwahff? How can you tell?”

Me: “There are large tracks with paw imprints in the snow!”

He: “I don’t believe it. Where? Let me see.” He sprang from bed. 

I was surprised Himself was so … unsurprised, but that’s a man for you … Emotions always in check.

He: “Just as I thought! Those prints are mine. I crouched in the flower bed last night, putting both hands in the snow to measure its depth.”

Me: “You did?”

He: “I did.”

Me: “I guess you didn’t want the chopped lettuce and carrots I set out (ha-ha).” Then, chin to chest: “The deer didn’t want them, either.”

He: “Maybe if you removed them from the fancy dish you bought in France, they might be more interested.”

Me: “Animals shouldn’t eat from a dirty sidewalk …”

He: “Sheesh!”

Throwing the lettuce and carrots in the snow, he carried the dish inside. This morning, every scrap was gone.

© Nicole Parton 2019