This picture of a deer hoof track in the mud 15 feet from my front window shows just how tame the deer are in my area.
In the summer, they seem to think that we grow lettuce just for their culinary delight. (They are particularly fond of radicchio, to the point where we stopped growing it).
Last year, on a warm summer evening, my husband had a meeting out of the house and our daughter, Kitten, was safely ensconced in bed.
This gave me the rare opportunity of having sole control over the TV remote.
I settled in to watch my favourite Hugh Grant chick flick. (Four Weddings and a Funeral, if you’re wondering).
“Keep an eye on the field”, my husband reminded me on his way out the door. “The deer have been eating the lettuce again.”
Wouldn’t you know it, just minutes after Big Guy (aka husband) left the farm, three little deer slowly ventured through the hay field next door onto our field.
Well, I did the farm wife thing and ran out to shoo them off.
They looked at me as if I was some mad woman wearing pajamas and mud boots while waving a rake in one hand and a TV remote in the other.
While they paid me little mind, they did leave the field.
This fun little scenario re-played itself twice more as night fell. I was missing most of my movie.
I formed a new plan.
I walked over to the window.
I raised my hand.
And I pulled down the blinds.