fuzzy’s Tale


No matter how hard we try to prepare ourselves for inevitable pain, it still takes us by surprise and leaves us breathless. Gentle, sweet Fuzzy died last night. It was painless for her, she was on her way to her favorite sleeping spot after dinner and her heart just stopped. She fell in the path and never moved again. I found her this morning. She did not suffer. I cannot say the same for myself.
We all knew she had the congenital heart defect. We knew that she was nearly blind. We saw that she was not growing properly and remained the size of a six week old fawn. We watched her faint several times a week, but she always got up again. She was fat and happy and had even started to play a bit and would run to get her bowl of milk. We saw all this and we knew that she would not ever survive in the wild.
She in fact, did survive longer than I expected. I was even at the point where I worried whether she would try to jump the fence with the others when the time came. I needn’t have.
Fuzzy was never meant to live in this life. She was born with piebald genetics. Piebald’s are partially white or completely white deer, but not true albinos. An albino deer has no pigment and along with the white coat, it has pink eyes and nose. Even the hooves are pale and nearly pink. A piebald, can be pure white, but it will have blue eyes and a black nose and hooves. Piebalds are often mixed color, with natural coloring and white.
Fuzzy had only a bit of extra white around the ears and on her lower legs. Some of her spots were oversize, but at first glance, you would not notice. The problem with piebalds is that they have a host of disabilities that make it rare for them to survive. They are prone to heart problems, poor vision and partial or total deafness. Their bones may be weak or brittle and often are bow legged or severely pigeon toed.
Fuzzy had the bad heart. That was obvious early on. It is probably why her mother abandoned her. She may have had a twin and the doe needed to save her healthy baby and could not risk keeping a disabled one. As time went by, I also noticed that her vision was extremely poor and she was knock kneed in the back. The oddest thing was that she could not suckle and had to be taught how to drink from a dish.
But she thrived. She gained weight and grew, albeit at a slower pace. She learned to use her ears and nose to track me around the yard and never, never missed a meal…..until this morning.
All fawns are cute, but Fuzzy was really cute. She had thick hair that stood out and gave her the appearance of an expensive stuffed toy. That’s where her name came from. Her eyes where huge and still baby blue. She had big ears for her size and they swiveled like radar so she always knew where I was.
Wherever I went in the yard, she shadowed me. She liked to lay on the rug in the laundry room when it was hot and I always left the door open a bit when it was going to storm. Fuzzy never liked storms, and preferred to ride them out from the security of the house. When I was in my studio, she often wandered in the open door and lay near where I was working. Often, I would have a giant Labrador retriever on one side and a small spotted fawn on the other.
Oh, she loved people! Anyone who came into the yard was licked and nuzzled. She was my little ambassador. She allowed children to pet her back and tug her ears. She enchanted everyone who saw her and made them understand why I work so hard at a job I do not get paid for.
Yet all the time, every single day, I would remind myself, that this was not going to be a deer that could live in the woods. My best hope was that she would choose to remain in the yard with me and allow me to care for her. I would never deny her freedom, but I hoped she would choose me over the wild. Every time I looked in the mirror and saw my Pacemaker/defibrillator I wished that there was something that could save her heart also.
Maybe that’s what made her so precious to me. We both suffered from bad hearts. We both should not have survived, but we did. I thought about putting her down when I first heard the regurgitation and irregular heartbeat through the stethoscope. I debated with myself until I was in love with her and it was too late. I told myself, I could handle this. I would let her live out her days, as many as she had. As long as she was not suffering, I would stay the course.
We did stay the course. She had many days of sunshine, warm bowls of milk, cats to tease and sweet, green clover. I allowed her to eat all my hostas and my daylilies without admonition. I think she had the good life I wanted for her. She was never hungry or frightened or cold since the day she came to me. She knew only love and kindness. She had a peaceful death. Few wild animals get to experience that and I am grateful for it.
When I called the fawns to breakfast this morning, Fuzzy did not come. My heart sank and I fed the others quickly. As soon as they finished eating they walked towards the back with me. I kept calling out for her, hoping she had merely been asleep or in a faint. I searched the rhubarb and then noticed the other fawns standing in the path by the woods. I knew what was there. As I knelt beside her body, the other fawns sniffed her and then walked on. They had already said their goodbyes.
It was difficult, as I wanted to bury her as quickly as possible. The thought of flies on her body was unbearable, but my damaged shoulder and injured back will not allow me to dig with the shovel, so I would have to wait for James to come home. I covered her with a blue sheet printed with clouds. Somehow, it just looked right. Later James buried her by the garden and my life with her was over.
It was easy to take her from my presence, but it will not be so easy to remove her from my heart. I thought of her while I was feeding night bottles and as I put away her bowl. I will think of her when it’s storming and will probably leave the door open a crack out of habit. Perhaps most, I will think of her on the first day the other fawns leave the yard and explore their world. I will think of her and say a little prayer that in her next life, she will be strong and healthy and forever free.

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