The Buck, well he the three legged, injured, kind Buck... didn't stop here over the past few days. I looked through the kitchen window yesterday afternoon, as our temperatures pulled up to a 'Balmy' 17 degrees farenheit. Well it felt balmy, compared with the morning of 7 degrees and this morning at eight of 5 degrees.
I began to worry for him yesterday at three o'clock in the afternoon. That time is when the herd had arrived in my backyard. I realized just minutes before I was outside and saw who I thought was his caregiving buddy. Yet, who appeared a prince now suddenly groomed into the king of the nine deer I saw yesterday.
He arrived in the open side yard alone at first. He looked at me intently. I actually felt his communion with me. I asked, "Where's your buddy?" He looked. He seemed without, as if he knew what I'd just asked. And he didn't want to reckon with the answer. Neither did I. If you've watched deer enough you can see their peace, their discontent, their sorrow and their happiness, along with other emotions. Yes, they feel in their own natural way.
I hoped the injured buck was resting in the woods nearby. I was actually going to give him and his buddy if they were alone some hay today. I had extra. A three to four month supply is what I keep on hand.
So, as I realized the injured buck survived just so much for the past three months. However, this bitter cold and inclement weather may have just done him in, due to his slowed limping gait. I hoped not. But as usual, I knew all I had left for him now was a prayer. What use would it be for? For hope. For no suffering. For him to die knowing he truly had demonstrated valuable lessons to his buddy, the younger deer and any other being aware of his existence, his plight. His incredible will to survive. Against all odds, he did more than I'd ever witnessed a wild animal do. But yes, I'd like to see him one more time. Either way I miss him already, with little hope to know he lives.---Jody-Lynn Reicher
One may wonder what would inspire someone to work hard labor voluntarily. For me it’s the love of many things. It’s the passion that won’t be broken. Because there are so many aspects to such service for me, that it may seem beyond comprehension. I’d compare it to my youthful desire to enter the military as a young child. Then for a multitude of reasons only to follow through thirteen years later at age eighteen entering the Marines. There were things that followed me throughout my life. Sometimes they were questions of how I ever gave up my over decade’s life dream to become a New Jersey State Trooper. My childhood desire to never wed—to never have any serious relationships with another human being. I desired only service in military and law enforcement nearly my whole childhood. Too the extent that even one of my Marine Corps superiors expressed to me last July, “I never thought you’d ever get married. It just wasn’t who you were. You were always a loner.” I replied, “Yeah. I know.
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