One beautiful summer morning our dog, Lucky, and I went to check on our horses. The walk took us past our pond. In the summer the pond is surrounded by tall grass, so we often see wildlife. That morning was no exception.
Lucky had run ahead of me and, as he did, a deer stood up. The deer, which was a doe, stared at the dog and started moving toward it, head down. Clearly it was protecting something. It didn’t take us long to figure out what. A small fawn jumped out from behind her mother and started running in the other direction, away from her mother and toward the pond. The doe, dog, and I watched in amazement as the little fawn dove into the pond headfirst. It didn’t come up for ten or twelve feet. When it finally surfaced it started swimming for the other side of the pond.
I stood there astonished at how well the fawn could swim. It couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old. But as I watched, I could see that it was getting weak. As the fawn neared my side of the pond I started thinking that I should grab it and pull it out. But as soon as it saw me standing there it panicked and headed back toward its mother on the opposite shore.
The fawn was now back in the middle of the pond and slowing down. It looked exhausted. When I saw it wasn’t going to make it I started running toward the other shore. The fawn had made it to within ten feet of its mother. But all I could see was the top of its head.
At this point, what with me running and the dog barking, its mother had run off.
Without thinking I jumped into the pond and started pulling the fawn out. It wasn’t much bigger than a cat, so it didn’t take much. It was as limp as a dishrag and water was pouring out of its mouth and nose. I let the water drain and quickly put its whole muzzle into my mouth.
I had no idea what to do next.
So I blew into its muzzle for two seconds and then let the breath exhale. I did this for about twenty seconds, and all of a sudden one of the fawn’s eyes shot open. It started coughing up water, and when it was done, it looked at me with both eyes. It wasn’t panicked or scared, it just stared at me.
The fawn didn’t seem to have any strength, but I knew it would be okay. I laid it down, back where it had been with its mother, and curled its body into a sopping wet ball. Its mother was nowhere to be seen, but I knew she wasn’t far away, and she certainly wouldn’t be coming any closer as long as I was on the scene.
Half an hour later I went back to check. The bed was empty.
I haven’t seen either of them since.
Pierrepont, New York