The Little Deer

So I get this call a couple weeks ago as I'm walking in the door from Bible School. My first thought is don't answer the phone, let it go to the recorder. I picked the phone up anyway (in the garage) and it's our Scout Master wanting to know if I can help a deer? His friend has called him to see if he knows anyone who can help him and he called our Cub Master (who wasn't home yet from the same Bible School) so he called me. The story I got was his friend's daughter found a baby deer that day being attacked by dogs. She thinks the dead deer she saw on the road might be his mom but she wasn't sure but the little deer was hurt so she picked it up and took it home.

I'm hearing this story and thinking a little deer attacked by dogs, it's got part of his rump missing and bites on his face etc. and I'm picturing this bloody mess in my head but agree to go meet the friend and see what I could do (you know being the vet that I am).

Anyway, I met the friend and met the little scared deer and it wasn't nearly as bad as what I was pictureing in my head. He did have a bite on the side of his face and a bite on his rump but it wasn't visiable when his fur was smoothed over it. He was dehydrated because the friend said he wouldn't drink anything and I had a bottle and some formula and forced it down his throat. We loaded him up and brought him home.

We tended to his wounds and fed him some more and put him to bed in the bathroom.

The next day he was walking around downstairs and discoved "the cave" (under the desk where our dogs like to lay) and made himself at home.

He didn't like the bottle but would drink from a bowl and then he found the fountain in the living room and started drinking from that too.

He finally got a name (other than Bambi and dinner) of Marley - don't ask, the three year old neice in Texas named him.

Here is Marley and Bay so you can see either how small he really is or how big the bassett is. The bassett out weighed him by probably45 pounds.

This is Marley with Bob the kitten relaxing in "the cave".
Bob is also the favorite chew toy of Marley (and Daisy and Little Bear). Bob has since found a new home and is no longer a chew toy. I'll tell you more about Bob later.

Anyway, Marley seemed to be making progress and would go outside and do his business and talk to the Llamas and generally explore the back yard.

A week after we brought him home he had a seizure and died. We have no idea what caused it other than he may have had some internal injuries we couldn't see. In any case with all of the young animals we have dealt with over the years, when they are so young there is never any guarantee that they will make it and if at all possible it is best that they stay with their mothers. Only his mother had been killed so it was up to us. I feel bad not knowing if there was more we could have done for him or if we did something wrong but he was eating good and getting pleanty to drink and he was pooping and peeing just fine so it's a mystery.

I still miss him though.