Wild Life

 

Sam and I came upon this deer while we were on our walk at the far side of the canal. This guy ended up walking along with us, always staying about fifteen feet away and keeping a few steps ahead of us. As we walked, he would occasionally stop and eat some of the brush growing along a chain-link fence. Sam and I would stop and watch.

We let him have his space and he let us have ours and each of us seemed to be fine with this arrangement. And though he was in no hurry, it dawned on me that maybe it was best to encourage him to walk further along, down to where there was an opening in the fence that led to the woods. 

On our walk down, Sam and I had passed some fishermen standing about ten feet from their car, their trunk open and filled with all sorts of sportsman-like stuff. I don't know if any of that sportsman-like stuff included a rifle, but I knew it was hunting season and I knew that seeing these guys shooting at the deer would definitely ruin our walk.

Needless to say, this was a possibility I didn't bother to share with Sam. Instead, I, like usual, (barely) played it cool.

We calmly walked along, getting closer to the deer with each step, gradually herding him towards the opening in the fence. Thankfully, the deer took the not-so-subtle hint, found the opening, and disappeared into the woods - where, we like to think, he's currently living a long, full life. 

Sam and I continued on, passing the fisherman on our way back to our car - Sam, happy that he saw a new friend, and I, happy that his new friend didn't end up strapped to the hood of their car.