The summer of 2001 presented a double blessing for us. It was one of those stories where Mom is expecting and all of a sudden ends up also adopting a newborn baby! June 5th was a day our family and another close family of homeschool friends will never forget.

Our friends were enjoying a Bible study focusing on Psalm 46:10a “Be still and know that I am God.” They decided that our farm would be a perfect place to visit while they meditated on these scriptures. We took advantage of the opportunity and joined them out in the meadows, each family going their separate ways in the field.  We each heard crying/baaing sounds and thought the others were goofing off and not “being very still.” When we met back up we discovered that none of us were actually making any noise. Upon further investigation back out in the pine thicket, we discovered a tiny, wet, lifeless, fawn beside our drooling, overly excited dog, Molly. It was sadly evident what had happened! I scooped up the limp body (Mistake #1), preparing to have a burial ceremony.
           Within just a few minutes away from the annoying dog, the dear little thing began to come to life. We realized that it had only just been born and no thanks to Molly hadn’t had time to get adjusted to the outside world. My friend glanced at the babies underside and announced “It’s a boy!” The name Bambi was immediately on everyone’s lips.

I called my deer-expert friend and she guessed that Mama Doe was lurking somewhere and just may come back for the baby, but the fact that I had touched her and coated her newborn scentless body with human odor she might abandon her afterall. I decided that it was worth a try to put her back, but just in case it didn’t work, Daddy was instructed to stop by the feed store on the way home from work for some calf starter formula. With Molly in the garage, we snuggled the little fawn back under the pine tree where we found her, said a prayer and hurried back to the house.                    

At dusk we went back into the woods to make sure the baby had been reunited with its mother. She was still right where we left her! She was our responsibility now…

Another call to my friend, “What do I do NOW??” She instructed me to not call the DNR under any circumstances. As it is against the law to raise a deer, the government will fine you heavily, and then take the baby away only to kill it. Seems logical in the “pro-death” society in which we live! She knew of a veterinarian who was sympathetic to our cause and very ready to help. The office faxed me an 85-day feeding schedule. 85 days of bottle feeding this baby??? Just like a human baby she needed to eat every 4 hours in the beginning. That meant setting the alarm clock for all hours of the night. And I was also informed that the mother deer helps the baby defecate with her tongue. Oh my! Well, I went through a whole lot of rubber gloves and wet paper towels that summer!

That first night she progressed very quickly and began clumsily walking around our garage. That was definitely NOT the place for a deer. We made an impromptu enclosure under our porch for her protection. She showed no interest at all in a bottle or calf formula in any manner. I really didn’t expect the little thing to even live through the night. With the awesome responsibility of raising this baby ahead of me, would I really be disappointed if she didn’t make it? What a horrible thought-shame on me! I had to just trust God for this one.

Well, the next day the baby was very much alive and with the umbilical cord dried up we also discovered that “Bambi” was really “Faline!” She still didn’t want anything to do with formula or a bottle. Further research suggested that maybe she might like goat’s milk. The closest goat farm was a 45 minute drive away and goat milk cost $4.00 per quart! Of course she guzzled it!! I quickly devised a plan to wean her to the cheaper formula by gradually mixing more of it into the milk. It worked and we didn’t have to invest too much money in her food bill. It was nice getting to know the goat farmers and learn that if ever a human baby couldn’t be breastfed, goat milk was better than formula for him also! I filed that bit of info in my mental filing cabinet.

Raising Faline was a joy! I took her for walks and she followed me like a puppy. She grew VERY attached to her bottle and if she wandered too far away I simply held up the bottle and she’d return to her enclosure. Friends came to visit her and enjoyed being able actually pet a fawn. Although she was tame, she still became skiddish around most people besides her adopted “mama.” My kids had to learn to feed her for me when their baby brother was born. She was close to being weaned when one day when she decided to take a very long walk by herself and she didn’t return that night. I was frantic! I then came to realize that it was time for me to let her go. When she did return for her feeding the next day I began leaving her cage door open and gave her an orange collar to increase the chances of hunters having mercy on our poor tame deer.

Even after she took her last bottle she would return to visit and lounge by the back door snuggled up with the cat. Soon we discovered that our neighbors across the hill, an older couple, had also befriended her and affectionately named her “Sweetie.” She takes advantage of their serene surroundings, the corn and salt block they provide for her, and most importantly their lack of pets, especially when it’s time to birth her babies. We enjoy e-mailing each other with updates on Faline’s adventures. I’m thrilled that they often even  replace her orange collar when she loses it and I drag me feet in making her a new one. It was worth the labor to raise her knowing the joy she brings to them as well. 

 This summer Faline turned 5 years old, along with my son. Once again she gave birth to twins but her “grandparents” notified me that one of them didn’t make it. We’ve so enjoyed watching her frolic with the baby in our pond and I don’t have to feed it! Another glorious example of “reaping what you sow!”