November 23rd My Deer Friend Francine
Today was Thanksgiving – well, our Thanksgiving since Tom won’t be with us on Thursday. I roasted a small 12lb turkey, did an apple, cornbread, mushroom, onion and sage stuffing, whipped up some garlic potatoes and steamed some not so traditional but always yummy edamame from Trader Joes™ for good luck.
(Alexis spearheads the concrete pad project for the soon-to-be-necessary generator)
(Tom starts the long-awaited painting)
In the late afternoon, I tented the turkey with aluminum foil and went out to grain the cows as we were expecting a cold night.
(grain and mouse - must remember to snap lid on tightly - had to lower a shovel inside to let him climb out)
Grain is important in the winter because the cows need the extra calories on cold nights to keep them warm. After feeding the animals in the barn, I walked down to the pasture with a bucket of grain in one hand and the now requisite cougar-deterring air horn in the other. I was just about to climb over the fence and fetch the black flat-bottomed rubber bowls I divide the grain into when I saw her. A doe. She was the same doe from the night of the cougar sighting a couple of weeks ago; the same doe that appeared at the beaver pond unafraid last night. The same doe Quinn and I have seen on occasion. We both thought her so vulnerable all by herself. Was she destined to be Karen’s cougar chow? Quinn and I plotted to round her up and put her in the barn at night to keep her safe. My practical sister’s reaction to this idea was ”Great, Denise, one more mouth to feed.” And, of course, there was the little detail that she was a wild animal. I am not the sort who would jump in a panda enclosure to get a hug. Or place my child on the back of a buffalo for a picture. So, as much as I worried about the doe, I’d have to accept the situation- Que sera sera.
(All alone)
Here she was alone. Again. The moment I saw her I was prepared for her to run away, but she didn’t. She walked toward me, ears turning around the way Miracle’s do when she’s listening intently. As she got closer I stood statue still. I was unprepared for what happened next. She copped a squat. Peed right in front of me. Deer urination is a really ridiculous reason to lovingly remember your mother who has passed away, but it was exactly what happened. My mom, the teacher, the woman amused by second grade humor, felt that nature shows omitted wild animals urination and defecation. As a result, she brought back pictures from her safari of cheetahs pooping. Now, here in front of me was a little doe. I never knew they squatted. The cattle just stand and pee. Now, the goats do squat. Interesting. Thinking of my mother I snapped a picture.
(Like mother, like daughter)
Abe was making quite a ruckus as I had yet to hand over the grain, while Anna and Andy stood idly by. He about went berserk when he saw me scoop out some of his precious grain and put it on the ground for the doe. Afterward, I went about my business and she walked over beyond some trees.
After graining the Devons and, inspired by the doe, I walked on toward the beaver pond hoping for a glimpse of Wally. On the way I disturbed two more doe nibbling their dinner. I said, “Good evening ladies, lovely weather we’re having. All this sunshine is wonderful, isn’t it? I hope you’re not afraid; I’m just walking through here. Don’t worry about me.” Once again, I was stunned they didn’t scamper away.
(Light growing dim - one of a pair)
Perhaps they found my voice friendly, or perhaps I don’t look menacing. Whatever it was they let me walk within 30 feet or so of them as they occasionally looked up at me and continued eating. Wally was not en casa, and the light was fading dramatically, so I began to head back. When, suddenly, my little doe appeared again. She’d been watching me from under a tree. And, as I made my way back, she continued to walk toward me. Closer and closer and closer we came to each other. I kept walking and talking, “Francine, I think your name might be Francine.” I babbled. “Well, Francine, I’m quite happy to make your acquaintance. But I want you to be careful; there are lots of predators around. Do you know Karen? I don’t suppose you do or we wouldn’t be chatting. I wonder, why don’t you meet up with those other two does? Don’t you like them? Or don’t they like you? Are they the mean girls? Little Francine, are you hungry? I’ll get you some deer food at the store so you’re not hungry this winter. I think you would like one of those deer blocks.” I rambled until she was only about eight feet away. We studied each other. I felt so blessed to be standing there so close to her. I’d idolized Jane Goodall growing up and for a nanosecond I felt the thrill she must have felt for 45 years. And then it was over and she bounced away.
(Henry's heavenly chocolate)
Soon after, Alexis came over, chocolate ganache in hand ready for - what else? - “Lethal Weapon 3”. We skipped the fancy-dancy dinner table, as we’ll do that later in the week. I took a bite of turkey. I had so much to be thankful for. I finally made a new friend I could talk to. And this was the best turkey I’d ever made.


