She was two or three months old in September, small and young to survive without a family. Whitetail fawns nurse for 8-10 weeks. Had she been weaned before her mama died? How would she know about finding food? And where to hide from the coyotes that howl at night?
Every morning as I looked out the kitchen window I wondered whether she'd be back or if the night before had been her last.
Perhaps she's the fawn born on our front lawn. She knows our place--the paths and bushes, where we scatter birdseed, the bird baths filled with water.
The other morning I saw her bedding in the buffalo grass near our house when the air was well below freezing. I'm guessing she thought she was home.
Copyright 2009-2014 Kathleen Scott, for Hill Country Mysteries. Unauthorized reproduction is prohibited.