By Nancy Cowing Umphres

Time seems to have passed with frightening speed and the year is almost at an end. State and federal wildlife reports will soon be due. This always brings about a time of reflection. The triumphs and the failures are brought back with much clarity. There is usually one animal in particular that stands out in one's memory. This year that animal would have to be Sky, the white-tailed deer.
The fawn was found standing in the middle of the highway late at night. His head was swollen, his ear torn, and one eye seemed badly injured. The man who stopped to give aid searched for the mother but found nothing. He wrapped the deer in his jacket, put him in his pick-up, and headed home.
I received a call from our local game warden, Kevin Fraiser, the next day, and within several hours the injured deer had arrived at the front door. The man who rescued him had kept the fawn quiet and warm overnight and had called the game warden first thing in the morning. He had even managed to feed him a little milk before the drive to the rescue center.
The deer had mutiple wounds to the head and neck. Some looked like bite wounds but others looked a lot like barbed wire. His eye was my main concern. It was too swollen to examine. I figured he was two months old so his stress factor was high. He was terrified. As I mixed up a dose of antibiotics and warmed a bottle my assistants moved in to give comfort.
Our domestic cats have always helped with the rearing of deer. By the time I came back with the medicine and the bottle the cats had moved in and snuggled up to the injured fawn. The warm purring companions had a soothing effect on him. He had settled down and was sleeping soundly.
Within a week Sky was beginning to look as if he would recover. The swelling had gone down and his eye had opened. I had been putting eye ointment in the opening along with oral antibiotics. The feline assistant staff of Eesh, Tasha, and Rupriktina had kept the patient warm, soothed, and comfortable. Soon he would be able to move to move to an outdoor cage.
At first I put him out for several hours a day and he would still spend the nights in a hospital cage. His eye needed treatment three times a day, which was an awful struggle. I didn't need to worry about imprinting as he only tolerated me for bottle feedings.
After several months Sky had grown into a handsome young deer with the beginnings of little antlers sprouting from his head. I had moved him to a large run to get him in shape for release. He had still not forgiven me for all the weeks of medication and would hide at the farthest end of the cage when I filled his dish.
It was a Sunday and I noticed that Sky didn't come to eat after I left the cage. I kept checking on him during the day and he seemed down. He didn't have a fever but something just wasn't right. We figured he might have indigestion from something he ate and it would pass eventually.
At daybreak on Monday I found him semiconscious and in terrible pain. I rushed him into the house and onto a heating pad and called Dr. Sam Bottenfield. He and his wife Dani arrived within an hour. At first we thought it might be a twisted intestine or some sort of blockage. Sam treated Sky for the pain and gave him a complete exam. It didn't look very hopeful. The cats had been very distressed by the deer's cries, but once he was sleeping and out of pain they had curled up beside their friend.
After we all had a cup of coffee I walked Sam and Dani to their truck. On returning to the patient I found he had passed on, surrounded by his furry friends. The cats were horrified. Rupriktina, the youngest of the three, began to yowl, and it took several days before she recovered. I realized that we had never lost a deer that they had helped raise. It reminded me of another reaction to loss.
Years ago, when our beloved collie Julia was still alive, she had sat up with me one night while I tried to save an injured baby javelina. When it died, Julia had been so devastated she had gone to the corner, pressed her head against the wall, and refused to move for hours. She never again had anything to do with a baby animal.
An autopsy was performed on Sky and as far as we can figure, it was mushroom or toadstool poisoning that killed him. All the rain had caused a mass of fungus growth that we have never seen before. We have all managed to try and recover from the loss.

(The Zapata Wildlife Rescue Center can be contacted by mail at 6812 STOP 68A, Zapata, TX 78076-2913, by phone at (956) 765-8526, or e-mail at dreams@zapata.border.net. Those interested in visiting should call ahead for directions.)