I have always felt attached to deer, ever since I was about 4 or 5 and saw Bambi in the theatre. My cousin loved Bambi too, and we would “play Bambi” for hours. She was always Bambi, I was Filine, and we always made my sister Ginny play Thumper. (Which didn’t impress her, especially because we always ended up pretending that Thumper died somehow.) In kindergarten, I even wrote a report on the white-tailed deer, complete with illustrations.
A few years ago, I dug up a copy of Bambi, the original novel, at my local library. If you can get your hands on a copy of this out-of-print gem, do it. It’s a beautifully-written story, not at all fluffy like the Disney version. And check out the chapter on the two leaves. *sigh* Heartbreak.
I think I love watching deer because there’s something so calming about them. Last summer we spent a long weekend in Okanagan Falls, and there were deer right outside the house we’d rented for the weekend. We watched them and they watched us. It was the closest I’d ever been to a deer before.
So I suppose that’s the nice thing about living where I live – every now and then I get a visitor to my yard, and I can watch them while they wander quietly and chew on the grassy area behind my fence.
Oh, and the Tokyo Police Club song playing when I spotted this little darling in the yard? Bambi.