Hey! Those three large deer are the same doe and fawns that have been hanging around our house since the beginning of summer! The babies are now as tall as their mother, but I know they are her young offspring because they do things like charge into the middle of the street when grumpy neighbor man starts honking his horn to “scare them away” so he doesn’t accidentally hit one of them. Only a psychopath or youngster would run into an oncoming dented Subaru.
The doe knows my voice. I sing out things like, “Hello sweetie…pretty girl…please get your fat haunches off of my delphiniums.” She usually looks at me, flicks her golden brown ears back, takes another bite of the velvety deep-purple flowers, sniffs the air, and then ever so slowly scans the yard until she locks in on her two charges. I know better than to get between a mother and her babies, no matter how big they are.
So, the spring babies are grown...summer is officially over...fall is peaceful here in Ithaca. Except for the squirrels. They seem to be getting downright nasty. Chasing each other, grabbing at everything the other one may or may not have. When I first saw them shaking tree branches and acting like they were pantomiming that the end of the world was coming, I thought they were trying to mate, but, no, even male squirrels know that the way on top of a female is not by whacking her on the head with an acorn…
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