True-Life Adventures on "The Rock" III

"The Deer Whisperer"

I've talked about K.'s childhood-friend Pat before, but I thought about him again as I was taking the garbage out bright and early Wednesday morning (though it wasn't that particular act that brought him to mind!).

As I was walking up the front yard slope, I happened to look over at my neighbor's yard (the one to the left) and saw a deer cautiously edge up that lawn. It looked over at me. Its ears twitched. I gave it a hands up (no weapons here) and it proceeded on its way at the same measured pace. Great. I didn't spook it. I padded over next door to watch it go, but it was already up the steep slope behind out houses. "Thanks for stopping by."

That's what reminded me of Pat. Pat has this habit of seeking out wildlife wherever we go with him. I call it "Pat's wild goose chases." All the time, he'll want to go to the least-travelled logging road, over the toughest terrain to see wildlife--whatever it may be. It's bonus points if it's a bear, but I strongly suspect if he came across one, it would be the one cashing them in.

But his favorite search is for deer. Wild deer. We've trudged through deer meadows and taken long drives at dusk all in the hope that our stinking cars and our stinking human-smelling selves will catch the deer unawares. Fat chance. And I think it's the glory of the hunt that he likes. When we camped on Orcas Island where the deer are as prevalent as dogs, I'd point out every deer to him until he finally said, "Yeah, whatever..."

But it can be annoying, if you're of a mind to go out to Nature...and not see any of it. Once while vacationing at Lake Quinalt on the Olympic Peninsula, Pat insisted, every night, on driving around at dusk looking for deer. K. had tired of the chase so I was the designated driver. Not my favorite thing to do, dodging log-trucks and other night-owls driving through the wilderness. We never actually saw any deer, that is, deer that hadn't been on the losing end of a fight with on-coming traffic, but we did think we spotted a herd retreating in a meadow below the road we were travelling on. That was enough to satisfy Pat for the night, so we headed back to the cabin. "We'll have to come back tomorrow night...earlier!" he said.

Oh! The joy!

We did go back the next night. Pat's enthusiasm was up a notch, while mine had taken a nose-dive as we drove and drove with the sun set and the only light on the road beaming from my car. Eventually, Pat had to concede. "No deer tonight!" So I made ready to hang a U-turn on the street. "Wait! let's pull in here!" he said. "Okay, Pat. Then we'll turn around, okay?"

I turned into the pull-in, and in front of us--with more coming up over the ridge, was a large herd of maybe twenty deer--the bucks in front, standing in place, eyeing us, waiting for our next move. It felt almost mystical to see such a sight, to be confronted with so much live venison on the hoof watching us, waiting for us to stop blocking their way. "That's a lot of deer!" I mumbled. "Yeah," said Pat. "That's incredible." They weren't going anywhere. They...and we...just stared at each other for long minutes. A couple of stragglers came up over the ridge and no doubt wondered what the hold-up was. The herd was now pretty tightly packed together, so much so that if one of them spooked, there was a good chance they'd take a direct route over my car.

I looked over at Pat. "So...you seen enough?" "Uh...yeah...maybe we better let 'em..." "Yeah, I'm gonna back up reeeeal sloooow..." I gingerly put the car in reverse and inched back, watching them every inch of the way. The deer relaxed slightly (probably putting their battle-plans away) and began to follow us out. I backed onto the road and we started to drive away--slowly, so we could watch the deer cross the road. It's one of those things you never forget: the image of those retreating deer is tatooed on my brain.

Pat was visiting here a couple of weeks ago: he'd brought K. back from Hawaii. A couple visits back he had started calling himself "The Deer Whisperer." We treated it as a joke, but he looked at us seriously as we sat on the deck watching the dusk. "No, I swear! I think I attract them somehow." I hooted. Pat's gone off the deep-end. He attracts them now!

We had a nice visit. At some point I went into the kitchen to do something--probably grab a beer--when Pat walked into the living room. "Jim!" he hissed. "C'mere!" K. was looking over the rail. I walked out onto the deck. A buck was making its way across our front yard, as plain as day. I looked over at Pat, who was smiling, gazing at his deer.

"The Deer Whisperer," he said quietly.