Little Princess

She toddled into our lives on the afternoon of Friday, July 20, 2007. Venice and Carrie named her “Little Princess,” which was quite fitting, “Little,” however, being an understatement. She was unimaginably tiny and frail; her body was maybe a foot in length with very long and wobbly legs about the diameter of a lady's finger. Her coat was gorgeous. Perfectly placed white spots adorned her like regal attire. They gave her depth, providing an unsurpassed camouflage for this delicate fawn. Yes, she was a little princess.
From the moment she arrived, she was rutting on any creature that moved, whether four-legged or two. “Are you my mommy?” she seemed to be asking. It reminded me of the children’s book, “Are You My Mother,” in which a mockingbird baby hatches while his mother is away. Hence, he sets out looking for his mother, asking everything that moves, “Are you my mother?” until his mother finally returns and finds him. What had happened to this day-old fawn's mother? Would a mother deer abandon her fawn? Was she looking for her baby right now? Was she even alive? The evidence seemed to point to the latter.
Little Princess was willing to accept anything as her mother. She tried to adopt three different goats, each rejecting her with kicks and bunts. She even tried to adopt the dogs and cats who were actually kinder to her but had nothing to offer her for food. She also tried to adopt us, rutting on our legs and sucking on our clothes. When it became too tiresome to hold a milk goat still for her to nurse, which was also setting her up for more abuse from the reluctant mother, we decided to put her totally on formula or goat's milk from a bottle.
She was thriving. The formula and milk agree with her. And, she had found her “mother.” Me. What a joy and honor to take care of this precious little creature. When coming out for her feeding, I would call, “Little Princess, baby deer,” and she would wobble over and begin licking my legs or nibbling on my skirt, looking for her bottle. Sucking so voraciously at times that she would lose control of her tongue. Over time she became a better, more experienced nurser, drinking until her little tummy was full, round, and satisfied.
About a week later, I noticed a decreased appetite and a weakness in her walk. Then she was plagued with a terrible case of diarrhea which after a few days really zapped her energy. I tried treating her the way one would treat a goat with scours, and about the time the diarrhea was getting better, she was hit with conjunctivitis. If she had been a dog, cat, goat, llama, fowl, camel, sheep, horse, cow, duck, snake, mouse, rabbit, hamster, guinea pig, goose, bird, pig, frog, alpaca, wallaby, turkey, fish or ostrich, she might have had the right to see a vet and get medical care. But she didn't have this right since she was just a deer. Legally she only had the right to die at the hand of nature or a hunter's rifle. To be attacked by animals, run over by a car, or placed on someone’s wall or in someone’s freezer were her only rights.
She not only didn’t have any right to receive aid from us, but we didn’t have any legal right to give her any aid. Being told by the authorities to put her out and allow her to die if her mother didn’t return was a shock! We would be breaking the law if we didn’t obey the rules. My conscience was torn, “How could we willingly break the law? We always uphold the laws of the land and teach our children to do the same. We could be fined heavily or worse if she were discovered. Yet she wouldn't stand a chance if we did not protect and feed her. Could we all stand by and watch her die. What would this teach our children!” The authorities said not to aid her, but we followed a Higher Authority. The Authority who commanded us to take care of His creatures. They are His creatures! They do not belong to any state or government. They are Gods! It is God who made them and He who rejoices at every birth in the universe, whether a pet's litter of adorable puppies or a birth in the secret recesses of the woods with no witness except Him and the dear mother present. He mourns the death of each, for not even a sparrow dies without His heart aching.
And so, with a combination of fear and courage, we protected, loved, and cared for this little refugee until, overtaken by illness, she was laid to rest on August 1, 2007. Her short life gave us a little glimpse of Heaven and more of a passion for wanting to be there.