Dear Ones and the Deer
“There is an injured deer in the yard” my roommate told me. Immediately I walked onto the front porch to look. There she was, just inside the line of the woods. Her rear leg was clearly broken- hanging loosely from her hip- and she hobbled on her remaining three legs. I immediately raised my hands toward her and began to breathe slowly, focusing healing energies onto her broken body.
Over the last several years, this place has become a refuge for injured deer. It started with a huge 8 point buck, standing majestic and serene in my front yard one morning. Aengus McKee (my Lakeland Terrier and best bud) and I had gone into my treatment room to do our morning meditation. Outside the french doors, the buck stood. Aengus noticed him and immediately went into his frenzied Cujo routine- barking and frothing and kicking at the door. I opened the door for him and he shot like an arrow right at the buck… and then swerved sharply away when the buck simply lowered his head with a disdainful look. I noted at that point that the buck had a huge, nasty wound on his back, right at the base of his tail. I slowly walked outside and sat on the steps to lift my hands and offer some healing energy…
Since then, many deer have used my 3 acres as a healing sanctuary. Many have lived, and a few have died. But I always offer what I can- a bit of corn, an apple perhaps, and some healing energy. Do they discuss this, among themselves, as they nibble tender leaf tips? Do they whisper in the ear of an injured herd mate, to come and find refuge here for a while? Interesting…
Animals will often hold quite still for energy healing, but rarely for long. My sessions with people generally last 40 to 60 minutes, but animals, I have noticed, need only a very small amount of energy before they move away. I attribute this to animals existing in the now- humans take time to relax and become present. This little doe was no exception. After a few minutes of standing still, tail swishing, she limped deeper into the woods.
I didn’t see her for days. Today, over a week later, there she was, curled up in deer fashion just 10 feet off my driveway. I was just leaving for the morning and I stopped my car to look at her. I rolled down the window and she cocked her ears forward and extended her neck. Her injured leg looked bad, and she appeared to be shaking. Her eyes were very shiny- a sign of fever. She simply looked at me while I began to run energy, making no attempt to move away. “It is too late” I heard with my inner voice. My heart broke for her- slowly dying what must be a deeply
painful and lonely death.
She finally got to her feet, trembling hard and stumbling. She dragged herself about 10 feet just inside the edge of the woods. I drove off, feeling sad and helpless. I pondered that little doe for several miles and finally made a phone call. “Drev” I asked “Would you be willing to bring some peace to an injured deer?”
Jason & Sera Drevenak are some incredible people. The kind who just go on and walk the talk. The kind who simply wish to make the world a better place. The kind in whom tolerance for all people meets real life. They run the North American Bushcraft School in Hedgesville WV- a non profit school dedicated to teaching us sustainability skills. Don’t think of Rambo in camo with bulging biceps here (Oh gee, well maybe for a minute… mmmmm), think of community supporting community in basic ways. How to live simply and well…
True community is precious. Sure, you can pay $30,000 for a car with Onstar- people who get paid to help you. Or you can form real bonds with real people. Drev did not hesitate. He stepped away from his busy life to help an injured animal- and to help me as well. He called Sera, who was also busy with life, and they came to my home and ended the suffering of that little doe. Drev did not enjoy this- he is not a hunter. In honor of her short but sweet life, they saved her hide and her meat. Honoring life- nothing wasted. Giving the little doe one final purpose.
In my refrigerator, neatly wrapped in white paper, is what is left of her. I will think of her, the gift of life, and the blessing of compassionate community as she feeds me. And so it is.