Tuesday night as I was preparing to leave the PTA meeting I was at, I could hear deer on the hillside at the school. It's steep, covered in dry grass, and dotted here and there with trees between the school and the houses on top of the hill. A few minutes later, I saw what was causing the noise: an injured buck.
He was beautiful in a sad sort of way. The mercury vapor lights painted him in soft copper tones, his impressive antlers stood out in sharp relief, as did his very broken leg. The poor creature was limping himself down the hill, slipping and stumbling the whole time towards the safety of the creek bed. His fore leg was broken in two, and he was desperately seeking safety, ignoring those of us standing in the parking lot (which is not the norm for the deer here- they usually run as fast and as far as they can when we are around).
When I got home, I tried calling Animal Services, the Sheriff's department, and a friend who lived in the neighborhood to she if she had seen him or had an idea of who else to try. No luck getting him any help. I hope he's safely resting in under the shrubs of the creek, and I hope he heals. It's always sad when we see suffering that we can't alleviate. I'll send him healing thoughts, and wish him well.