Burying Bambi

It was freezing cold in the house when I got up. It was -5° outside when I fetched wood for the fire this morning. Weather pundits say this is shaping up to be the coldest February here on record. But it is bright and sunny and will be for another week..

Yesterday (Monday) began with a sparkling doggie walk. Then, I was thrilled to come home knowing I'd be cleaning up the yard. It’s such a lovely change to be outdoors.   

I made a list of things I want to do: Clean the back porch; the cats have destroyed it. Rake the front lawn; it’s covered in storm detritus. Get rid of the huge branch that fell in the vegetable garden. Sweep the courtyard—storm detritus again. Remove the wood from the downed trees from the yard and stack it in the shed. Rake the back yard and pick up the dog souvenirs. And finally: Take the recycling to GIRO.

I decided to start with the front yard. I got my tools together, went onto the lawn and was horrified by what I saw. Tears flowed immediately.

In a corner of my yard, I have a particularly lovely little tree with wide wispy branches, and under it, curled up, looking as cute and cozy as a picture postcard, was a little Deer—stone cold dead. I must have curled up to go to sleep under the tree and died in the night cold. 

I just love animals, so I’m bawling all over again this morning from writing and thinking about that precious little creature. It is so, so incredibly beautiful in it’s gentle posture. I did not, and will not, take a photo. It feels wrong to do so.

What am I to do with a Deer carcass? I asked Patsy and she referred me to the RCMP, so I called their station and left a message and then, mid-afternoon, an officer came by. He was very complimentary about the work I’ve done on my house and he told me to either bury the carcass or remove it to a location where the Eagles, Vultures and Ravens could see it. I could barely speak, but I got key words out and didn’t cry. 

I called Darrell and he came by this morning to help me move the carcass. I’ve been crying over the poor thing all morning and it was tough dealing with the body. I’m such a pussy! Darrell, bless him, hugged me twice because, I think, he could hear my heartbreak in my voice.

Darrell is such a prince! I feel blessed to know him. He's bringing by a splitter so I can breakup the rounds of logs left by the arborists who felled the trees in my yard.

I won’t walk Her Highness today. She’ll spend her day exploring my neighbour’s yards while I do yard work (in the freezing cold—remember, I am a pussy); my lot plus those of my neighbours gives her two acres of land to explore. (She comes when she’s called.)

I love doing yard work, even in this cold. I burn the storm detritus in the incinerator. To discard it all in the Federal land would create a huge bunker over just a couple of years, so I just discard that big limbs in the forest and incinerate as much as I can.

I’m rewarded by the tidiness that emerges as I work. Today, I’ll work in the backyard; there isa lot to do. Besides cleaning up several cubic meters of fallen wood bits and pinecones, I’ve big holes to dig to re-locate my Apple trees. I’ll be moving the trees once the tree canopy is trimmed back next week, but the holes can be done now.