This morning I was busy reloading ammo when Barb came back from a walk and sent me a text message before coming inside:
Two deer on the front yard.
I grabbed my camera bag and headed for the door. Barb opened it just before I got to it. My disappointed face must have been an easy read for her because she said, “They aren’t going anywhere, but I wish they would.” I carefully stepped out on the front steps and took some pictures:
I came back inside and Barb asked if they were still there. “Yes”, I replied, “Do you want me to make them go away?”
“Yes please. I don’t want them eating my plants.”
“We could have fresh venison for dinner if you wanted.”, I joked.
“No. Just get them out of the yard.”
We went out into the yard and tried shooing them away from 15 or 20 feet away. They weren’t really interested. I had to make some aggressive moves and sounds before they finally moved onto the edge of the street. Two cars drove by and the deer came back onto the edge of the yard.
I clicked my tongue (really loud, I used to find my kids in malls and stores this way because they could hear it some distance away and knew I was looking for them). This was enough incentive for the deer to run down the street a few feet and then walk through the bushes into the neighbors yard.
I came back in the house and reported my results to Barb. “Excellent!”, she exclaimed, “I was afraid they would run at me if I tried to get them to leave.”
While it’s not all that unusual to see a deer or two when we go for a walk near the park, I don’t recall seeing any deer on our street before. It’s not like we live in some rural area. This is a normal suburban neighborhood with houses all around:
Oh well, I thought it was nice to have the visitors even if I don’t think Barb wasn’t quite as pleased about it as I was.