Dusk deer encounters are a bedtime treat

ALMOST every night for the past couple of weeks or more, I have had the pleasure of sharing my final dog walk of the day with two remarkably tame roe deer.

It’s not uncommon to see one, two or even three grazing peacefully in the network of fields opposite our house, their coats a reddish brown in the summer and darker grey come winter - yet that distinctive pale buffcoloured bottom stays the same whatever the season! And they’ve even been known to stroll into our garden, casual as you like, for a munch of Mum’s beetroot plants. Just the leafy tops, luckily!

But this was only on an “every now and then” basis, whereas recently these totally unscripted encounters have been happening almost every night without fail. It’s got to the point where if I only see one, or none at all, I worry that something’s wrong.

At roughly 9.30pm, torch in hand as the nights are already drawing in, Finn and I head out for one last stroll before bedtime which, as the owner of an energetic young border collie is usually around the sixth of the day.

Honestly, it’s nigh on impossible to wear this dog out! He’d usually be running freely but since a certain emasculating operation last week it’s strictly lead walks only, made all the more humiliating by having to wear a plastic “cone of shame”.

My deer, as I like to call them, appear to be a buck and doe pair, with the former slightly larger and brandishing a small but sturdy set of antlers. On the nights where I just see one it will be him, standing on guard with the doe surely not too far away. This was exactly the case on Tuesday night when, having turned to cross the middle field, my torch beam illuminated the doe’s delicate head and slender neck, as she lay just metres from us in the long grass. Other than getting to her feet, she was completely unperturbed as I hastily changed course and carried on walking down the hedgeline.

Another evening, having looped around the top field with the dog (pre-castration) yipping as rabbits fled to the safety of their warrens, I cut across the middle field but was soon stopped in my tracks by the sound of something crashing through the grass – a tad unnerving when you’re out on your own in the pitch black! Shining my torch back up into the top field, I was heartened (and admittedly relieved) to see the deer bucking and playing, chasing one another in circles and generally having a lovely time.

What amazes me the most is that every time our paths cross, the deer are so unbelievably trusting in my ability to keep the dog under close control, hardly moving a muscle as we quietly walk on by.