Fetti is up to 30 minutes of handwalking daily. Thank goodness she’s five minutes from home. I am doing my best to make sure she gets that every single day – despite my usual schedule taking me to the barn only 4x/week!
Thursday I swung by in the morning since it was going to be a long day. We dutifully walked our circles, dutifully walked our circles, paused to chat for a minute and let Fetti graze, and then there’s a fawn walking straight at us. Fetti is obliviously eating. This is not good. I grumble at her and attempt to get her head up, and eventually she notices and “OMG THERE’S SOMETHING RIGHT THERE WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER?!” Sigh. Pony. I tried. (Bless you, Megan, for reminding me that a few hard spooks or athletic escapades are not the end of the world for rehabbing our crazy horses.)
The fawn is baffled, but circles round again.
Are you my mother?
When I saw the fawn coming straight at us, I shifted over and dropped the lead rope. There’s someone standing just out of frame in front of Fetti, and by now she knows the fawn is coming. It didn’t seem wise to be standing straight in the fawn’s path.
The fawn eventually decides, much to its dismay, that this lovely brown and white creature is not in fact its mother. (Probably.) It toddles off towards the arena. Those of us who have been watching the interaction conclude that it must surely be lost, and perhaps it would follow Fetti into the woods and find its mother there? We wander our way over, the fawn follows us through the arena at a distance, we make it towards the woods and the fawn has disappeared. Well. Hopefully it has found its mother, then! And that was that.
The next morning I headed out to the barn super, super early to do at least half our daily walk. On our way back to the stall, we paused.
Later that morning, the fawn was successfully captured, held in a trailer, and then picked up by the local wildlife rescue folks. It’s currently in a herd with four or five other orphan fawns and the barn has been promised we’ll get updates in the future. We’re all hoping the deer makes it through.
Please note: the fawn initiated all contact with Fetti. I’m not a big fan of getting up close and personal with our local wildlife. They’re often all-too-friendly with horses and humans alike as it is! On the first day, I dropped the lead rope and moved not for a better photo, but because I wasn’t comfortable standing in the middle of the pathway and in the likely line the deer would take. The photo was an unexpected bonus. By day two, I had a pretty good idea of how they were likely to react, and I felt like I was in a better position to control the situation if things went south.