The Red Bandana Doe
You know, I had an eye exam recently, and while struggling to figure out the big letters at the top of the eye chart, it struck me; an eye chart is a metaphor, of sorts, for life.
You start at the bottom and as you get older, you slowly work your way up.
Okay maybe that’s a stretch, but youth has its advantages, especially if you’re a game warden trying to catch a critter that’s not where it’s supposed to be.
I remember the first deer I caught. It was the spring of 1991.
My partner, Game Warden Henry Balderamas, and I responded to a call concerning a pet deer in a guy’s yard. When we got to the location, there was indeed a little doe with a cute little red bandana tied around her neck penned up in a yard.
The dude who had her was a big burly fellow whose physical condition belied age – he was 80.
Henry and I told the guy he couldn’t keep the deer and that we would be taking her. He was agreeable to it all and said he’d help catch her, but I told him it’d be best to back away and leave this to “the pros”.
Then, we got out some rope and a pillowcase (game wardens commonly carry such items) and set out about our work.
The little doe was annoyingly gentle, that is until I tried to grab her and put her on the ground to get her hogtied, blindfolded, and placed in the backseat of my 1988 Dodge Diplomat sedan.
She went crazy and started kicking the crap out of Henry and me. That’s when the burly old dude decided to “help”.
I think Henry and I each took a couple of extra blows trying to keep the man out of harm’s way, but we eventually got the deer immobilized and in the back seat.
Henry and I got in the car and began the drive to a wildlife refuge about an hour away. About 10 miles out from our destination, that little doe started going crazy again as we were doing about 70 mph on the highway.
Not good. I slowed down, pulled over and came to a stop. The doe was still thrashing. Henry and I were at a loss.
We didn’t want to risk opening a door and having her get away in traffic, so we just kind of looked back from the front seat and watched until she got her front feet loose and the pillowcase off her head.
Then to our amazement, she just settled down in the seat like a dog and just looked at us. Oh well – I put the car in drive and got back on the highway.
For the rest of the way to the refuge, she just sat there, with that cute little red bandana still around her neck and blinked at us until we made it to the refuge.
Once there, we met up with a park ranger who took us to a remote section of the park where the doe would be unlikely to bother people and could live a normal life.
When we got to the spot, Henry and I got all the ropes and bandanas and whatnots off and got her out of the back seat for her “Born Free” moment (it’s a cheesy movie that was released in 1966 – Google it).
That moment was almost spoiled when we all started to leave, and the ranger almost rolled that little deer under the back tire of his big four-wheel drive truck.
Henry and I hollered and screamed and waved and got him to stop before impact. Whew.
You know that little doe is a metaphor of sorts, as well. Kidding. No more metaphors. We’ll just assume the red bandana doe lived happily ever after. The End.
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