Smart-mouthed by a deer butt
I saw the white-tailed deer from the park path — about 20 seconds before the dog did. It was a doe with her two (now almost fully grown) fawns. They’ve made frequent trips up the street to our house since Autumn so we sort of know each other now.
The dog goes completely nuts every time he sees them — as he was this time. He pulled the leash so hard that I had to lean back to hold on. The deer, seeing that the dog wasn’t going anywhere, walked calmly on. I watched while the dog yanked relentlessly on his leash, making whimpering “I-can’t-breathe-but-I-don’t-care-because-holy-crap-there’s-deer-there’s-deer-there’s-deer” noises. The doe let her offspring go first, then she turned around and slowly lifted her tail, swinging her hips just a little bit more than deer usually do, before disappearing into the trees.
It couldn’t have been clearer if she was talking: “Uh huh. That’s right, dog. You can’t get me. Y’all can just kiss my fuzzy white butt!”
