Thursday, 1 September 2011

Deer Me!

It is an inevitable reality of city life that eventually, your idea of a wildlife experience will be reduced to feeding squirrels in the local park or crossing paths with a skunk on your way home from yoga. I have to admit that despite my rural upbringing, I was starting to feel pangs of delight when I spotted those cute, furry little marmots on the hillsides beside the highway on the drive home. Yes. Marmots - it was THAT bad.
So when I moved into the house I was beyond thrilled to wake up the second morning and find a doe and her fawn eating breakfast RIGHT OUTSIDE MY KITCHEN WINDOW! I sat and watched them for a half hour, trying not to make any noise or sudden movements that would scare them away.

I was just as thrilled a few days later when another young deer sauntered through the yard, stopping to snack on the unruly weeds sprouting in what was once, many, many years ago, a garden.
The scene of the crime
A few days and a couple more sightings later, I wondered to myself as I plunged my hands into the potting soil in my new planters whether the deer would eat the plants. Nah! There's TONS of wild plants for them to eat, not to mention a few rather succulent-looking gardens around the neighbourhood. My meagre little pots will be fine.

Well, it turns out that in the deer world flower pot pansies are to twigs and wild grass what gelato is to ice cubes in mine.

One night. That's how long the pretty little planter lasted before it was nibbled down to a nub. What was a beautiful (and expensive) arrangment of bright flowers spilling down over the pot is now a small mound of chewed-up foliage with two pathetic blooms the sole survivors of the ungulate attack. Bambi is a bit of a little piggy.

Suspect #1
Now I understand why the family down the street has a 10-foot wire deer fence surrounding their property and the woman up the street has her beautiful planters covered in chicken wire.

But I still love ya, Bambi. You and snow.

Suspect #2

Suspect #3

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