Rosie’s Home Yesterday, Neva and I went to a new friend’s house for the Fourth of July. We met a lot of people. Among others, one was named Martha, a Facebook friend I’d not met before. She lives on a lake most of the time. Her neighbor and best friend is Gail, who lives two doors down. We had a great time sitting on the deck behind Martha’s house and when it was time for supper, we went a bit up the dirt road to go eat with all of the neighbors. The gnats were terrible. I was either fanning gnats or hitting mosquitos the entire time. It seems that sometimes I’m a city girl. Regardless, we had a great time. As we got ready to leave, Martha said that she wanted us to meet Gail, because her house was so cute. And so we did. We sat on Gail’s back porch and watched the final colors of the sunset melt into the trees that faded onto the horizon. Thank goodness it was screened. As we got up to leave, I heard someone say, “There’s Rosie.” It was a calm voice, one without excitement. As I entered the house from the screened porch, I encountered Rosie, a young deer, in the bedroom. Ok. I’ve seen a lot in my day, but I’ve never seen a deer standing in someone’s bedroom. Gail was just behind me, when I heard her say, “Rosie, are you hungry?” At which point Rosie turned her head as though to say, “Yes mam,” and casually followed Gail into the very tiny kitchen. It was a completely natural moment for everyone except Neva and me. With a pink crocheted collar, Rosie went to stand at Gail’s side while Gail continued talking to her. She said, “Rosie I’m hurrying. Do you want your potatoes first?” Before I could say anything, Gail was literally spoon-feeding Rosie mashed potatoes, full of butter. Yes. I said Rosie the deer, was standing at Gail’s side eating mashed potatoes out of a spoon, only to have a can of peas dumped into a paper plate and ate those as though any good little puppy dog might do. Delta, the tiny family dog, stood on the side of all, being told it wasn’t her turn to eat; I was astounded by the entire scene! It seems Gail’s son was on his way to the lake from Arkansas, when he happened to see a newborn fawn, still attached by the umbilical cord, to her dead mother. Her son stopped, carefully severed the cord, and took the fawn to his mother, Gail. They fed Rosie through a spoon, waiting until she was mature enough to let her go into the wild. When the time came, with great emotion, they drove about twenty miles to a place they thought was safe and left her in the woods. Two weeks later, Rosie showed up at the front door, wet from having swum across the lake. How did Rosie find her way home? It matters not. She did. These days, Rosie leaves every morning to head into the wild, only to return in the evenings. Everyone in the neighborhood knows her and acts as though it’s a natural thing to have Rosie show up for supper every evening and sleep at the foot of Gail’s bed. I’m not sure, but I think I’ve now seen it all. ©sarah_beaugez_rosie’sHome_2014
Posted on: Sat, 05 Jul 2014 14:18:41 +0000
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