He's BAAAAaaaaaak!

OK, just when I was getting used to the fact that my "deer rearing" days had come to an end, everything changed.

It was Saturday around lunchtime, and I was in the office/studio working on candles for an upcoming show. All of a sudden, both my husband and son burst through the door, and with breathless excitement announced that Seymour was "at the gate!" Since we live in the middle of about 1,000 acres, it could have been ANY deer at the back gate, but Seymour is so easy to identify...most of the hair scraped off in a line down the middle of his back from going UNDER the stall gate for dog food time. I stress the word "under", as it is not in a deer's nature to go "under" things. They always go "over". Not Seymour, our Great Deerenees! He learned the dog way of doing things--and that's UNDER. Period.

I dropped what I was doing--thankfully remembering to turn the burner off under the melting wax--and rushed out the door. There, pacing at the gate waiting to be let in, was Seymour. So as not to frighten him further, I calmly walked to the gate, talking to him all the while, and opened it. He rushed in and immediately was surrounded by his Pyr brothers and sisters...and dad. It was a joyous reunion with lots of butt sniffing, fur chewing, and whining. I took advantage of the momentary distraction to slip into the house and grab the one thing in the kitchen that I knew he loved: an apple.

When I returned, apple in hand, Seymour dove in, teeth first, like he hadn't eaten a thing since he left. I walked him--and his entire entourage--to the nursery gate, opened it up, and they all followed me in. It was at that point that I noticed Seymour's battered condition. He looked like he'd been on the losing end of a major prize fight. A large, semi-circular cut under his right eye, a small cut across the bridge of his nose, and various scrapes and patches of missing hair all over his body. Did he get beat up by a world-wise buck in the woods, or did he have an encounter with a coyote? We may never know.

Since his return, we've had to move Anabel out of the nursery. Seymour is deathly afraid of her. And, he's been very easily spooked at the least noise or smell. However, I am pleased to report that, as each day passes, he is closer and closer to the old Seymour we know and love. I think with time and understanding, he'll be back in top form--healed from all his wounds and ready to face life again. Until then, doctor's orders are plenty of rest...and dog food. It nourishes the soul, if you're a deer.

Will he leave again? Probably. But we'll enjoy the time he's with us, expecting full well for the call of nature to eventually win. Just not now.