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Show Page 16 THE OGDEN VALLEY NEWS Volume II, Issue XVII 1 September 2000 The Man and His Deer The following is an excerpt from a recollection by Frank Bohman from Peterson, Utah, which is near Mountain Green on the other side of Trapper’s Loop. In December 1970, we had a lot of snow and looking out the sliding doors on to the patio one morning here came ten deer pushing their way through the snow up to their chests right up to the glass door. As soon as they saw us they bolted and ran a short distance away. I took hay out to them and a little rolled Some would jump and bunt at each other as they came. When I got up to the house I would scatter a few bales for them and get a bucket of rolled barley. They would crowd so close to get some grain that they would nearly push me over. They got as friendly as pet lambs and I could call them and they would come off the hill to me. Even the pet lambs and cows wouldn’t respond like them. The bucks would get tamer than the does after a short while even the 4 or 5 pointers. In 1976 1 had eight fawns that followed me condition they couldn’t make it. There was one very dark colored buck that came kind of late and he stayed on the hill and wouldn’t come down for a week or so. He was a large two pointer with very high horns and spread for a two pointer. He never did act real well, but he soon got friendly and would come right up to me. One night I came home from a Farm Bureau meeting when I pulled up to go in the garage there was the buck laying in the back of my pickup. Every night he would come and lay there, but I could see him getting weaker every day. He got so weak he could hardly get up. I used to go kneel by him and rub his neck and ears. Of all the deer that came, not one ever tried to hook me with their horns. One doe struck at me with her hoof once. I gave the buck a shot of combiotic and vitamin but it didn’t help any that I could see. He would look up at me with the saddest look, seeming to say, “Please help me.” I did all I could but about all I could do was weep for all of the poor animals. Seems awful cruel that life is like that to all of God’s creations—man and beast alike. Patty A fawn named Velvet wants to go for a ride. barley. There was one deer there I called Tammy. She would circle around and around but never come right close. From this time on I fed them every winter when they would come. I used to sit on a bale of hay hoping one would come close enough to touch. It took four years before Tammy finally gave in and came up to me. When she did she was like a little pet lamb and would follow me any place I went and would eat out of my hand and bucket. The deer loved the apples and rolled barley. We threw out some old potatoes that had been frozen and they seemed to relish them. One morning in 1970, a large coyote came with the deer and sat down on the patio for about 20 minutes. After Tammy became so friendly it seemed to break down the fear of the rest of the deer and many would come and eat out of the bucket while I held it. You could rub your hand over the heads of the little fawns and tell the bucks. They had little horns about 1 to 2 inches long. They seemed to lose all fear when they were hungry and when they got to trust and know you. They completely took over the yards and trees. They ate the branches on the two pine trees and cedar trees. Some used to crowd up by the sliding glass doors and watch the television set. When the picture changed they would kind of get startled. I thought maybe they were just looking inside the house but their eyes were all fastened on the television. They crowded up as thick as they could stand to look in. They used to follow me like a herd of pet lambs. Sometimes when I left in the afternoon to go to the field to feed the cattle, nearly all of them would be down the driveway waiting for me. When I pulled up in the driveway they would all follow behind the pickup. Between 1972—’77, there were a large number of deer that came to the house. Nearly all were very friendly, especially the fawns after a short while. There were eight of them that were like little pet lambs. They would follow me around the yard every time I came out. I always had something special for them—apples, bananas, and sometimes oranges. Patty I named because she reminded me of someone. She was not a large deer and a little darker than most. Very trim and feminine looking. She was very affectionate. Every morning when I came out she would be waiting close by, and when she saw me she would always, without fail, come up and kiss me on the cheek. Very seldom did any of the other deer that came do this. She seemed to enjoy me putting my arms around her and rubbing her face and ears. She was the only one of all of them that would let very many everywhere. There were four does and four bucks. I gave each one a name and if I called and they could hear me they would come on the run. In the spring after most of the deer left and went back to the hills they stayed a little longer. One evening just about dark a friend came over and brought one of his friends that hadn’t seen a deer up close. There were no deer around. I couldn’t see one anywhere, but I told him I would call and if they could hear my voice they would come. I called Patty, Tonya, Limpy, Toby, Tamara, Little Buck and the others. In about two minutes here they all came from off the hill somewhere. They came up and they (the guests) had a chance to feed them out of their hand. All the deer would leave and go back into the hills when spring came. They would all return when winter came except one very mild winter and none of them came. Yet the next winter they came again, coming right up to me. After a while every deer had its own personality, and none of them looked exactly alike. Just like people and other animals no two looked exactly alike. Many people would come with their children to see and feed the deer. It was kind of hard to believe that after feeding them out of their hand that when fall and hunting season came they couldn’t wait to grab their gun and shoot them. It’s no wonder they are wild, all running to get away when all they see of man is there effort to shoot at them. I would run too. Even here by Prince getting a treat from Mr. Bohman. the house, if anything sounded like a feed her out of their hands. Lots of shot they would scatter. Several of the winters were very people and kids came to see her and to hard on the deer. Fifty to sixty percent take pictures. If she wasn’t around of them could die. They would do real where I could see her, all I had to do well until about the middle or first part was call and she would come. She of February. When a strong storm knew her name and lots of times she came and then cleared off to 20 degrees would be on the hill with many others below zero or more, in their weakened and if I called her she would come while none of the others moved. She came every year for seven years except one very mild year when none came down. Yet the next year when she came she came right up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I remember only one year that she had a fawn with her. I don’t know how old would be a reasonable age for a deer to live. In 1983-‘84, it was a very severe winter and many deer died. She didn’t look right good when she came. She was kind of thin and as the sinter wore on she got thinner and weaker. One morning when I went out she wasn’t around. I did the chores and walked up the canyon looking for her. I found her laying under a Hawthorne tree. I went over and kneeled down by her. She reached up and kissed me on the cheek. She put her head in my lap and I put my arms around her and held her tight. l started to cry because I knew she wasn’t going to make it. I held her a few minutes and got up. She got up and followed me down to the house. I got a bale of straw for her to lie on and went in and got some medicine to see if it would help her. When I came back out, the deer was laying so thick on the straw I had a hard time stepping between them to give Patty a shot of vitamins and combiotic. She seemed to perk up a little for a couple of days and then she disappeared. I walked up the canyon and around but never could find her. Sometimes I felt like she hid so I wouldn’t have to see her. The snow was so deep and the ground frozen so I couldn’t have buried her. It was real lonesome the rest of the winter. It was kind of like losing one of the family. I really missed her every morning and through the days that followed. I suppose this is the way life is with everyone and all the animals. Of all the deer that came she was the closest to me. Kind of like my best dog. I’ll never forget her and the joy I had feeding and having her around. Limpy Next to Patty, Limpy was the friendliest of all the deer. He was one of the eight fawns that stayed late in the spring. When he came back in the fall he had two points, not very large or high. He only had little buttons when he left in the spring. When he came in the early winter he was limping on his right front foot. He came right up to DEER cont. on page 17 |