Awe for fawns
At my age, if you have both nature and children in your life, you’re twice blessed. This truth came clear on recent occasions when we were traveling around on routine errands, accompanied by our granddaughter. At least twice, we’ve seen white-tailed does, accompanied by fawns, along roads in low-traffic locations where it was safe to tarry and watch.
An encounter like that can lose its impact if you’re not mindful to the marvel of it, which can happen after you’ve seen such things countless times. But with a child in the car, the scene is charged with all the beauty and wonder as the first time you saw it yourself.
“Look, thereĢƵ a baby,” our granddaughter squealed. “ItĢƵ trying to tell its mama it wants milk.”
Her excitement was infectious, opening a grandparentĢƵ eyes to the miracle. And despite the sugary language, her assessment was biologically spot-on. One of the fawns was intent on jamming its head between its motherĢƵ legs, butting at her udder in demand that she stand still long enough to yield a draft of warm milk.
Initially, the doe ignored the butting, stepping forward for a morsel of browse for herself. But then she stopped and accepted her offspringĢƵ blunt request, not unlike how we deflect our granddaughterĢƵ plea for a sugary snack, then relent. A child, enamored with a baby deer, doesn’t yet understand that the physiological demands of lactation — milk production — to support twin fawns means the doe needs more nutrition herself.
The other fawn was more patient, waiting its turn on the margins, reflecting the way human siblings can display markedly different personalities.
“Will the other baby get some milk, too?” granddaughter queried?
“Oh yes. You can be sure of that.”
She accepted my reassurance in a wide-open way I sensed she may not do as the years pass by. But itĢƵ nice while it lasts.
You’ve likely seen white-tailed fawns, too, around the region. Most were born at the peak time in late May or early June. They’re among the mammals biologists term as “precocial,” meaning they can stand and walk, though wobbly, shortly after birth. Fawns weigh between four and seven pounds when born. Their coats are well-formed, and the vivid white spots provide a degree of camouflage when a fawn lies curled up among ferns as its mother forages nearby.
Now, at about six weeks of age, they’re beginning to sample solid food and will gradually wean from dependence on the doeĢƵ milk.
That point is critically important in the realm of deer management. ItĢƵ important for a fawnĢƵ survival that it be born at the optimum time–late spring. If itĢƵ born later, it may not be able to grow and accumulate sufficient fat reserves to survive the winter.
White-tailed does begin to be receptive to breeding in the fall, and the gestation period for a fawn to develop inside its mother’ womb is seven months. The deer rut — breeding season — peaks in our region in early November. Consequently, births should peak in early June.
But, as has happened in PennsylvaniaĢƵ deer-management past, if the proportion of females in the population is too high, not all does conceive fawns during the prime time, because there are not enough males to fertilize available females. Any unbred does become receptive again about 28 days later. Fawns that result from late breeding, then, face a survival disadvantage. In deer herds where the sex ratio is severely unbalanced, some fawns are not conceived until January, meaning birth happens the following August.
The solution is enlightened deer management, which the Pennsylvania Game Commission has employed in recent years. By allowing hunters to take more female deer during the hunting seasons, the populationĢƵ sex ratio is kept close to ideal, so most females conceive at the optimum time, and their fawns are born in a tight window in late spring. Birthing most fawns within a short time span, also discourages predation of fawns by bears and coyotes. Predators simply can’t find them all when thousands are born within a few days.
That all drifted a bit beyond a childĢƵ delight at the sight of a baby deer, but itĢƵ important information for a deer herdĢƵ health, for which hunters and wildlife managers are responsible in the modern world.
If you happen to see a fawn that appears to be abandoned, don’t succumb to temptation to pick it up and “save it,” not even if your grandchild fears for its safety. Fawns taken from the wild rarely meet a good end. Most likely the fawnĢƵ mother is somewhere nearby, and they’ll reunite as soon as you’re gone.
If watching whitetails has lost its thrill, take a child along. YouthĢƵ innocence will re-open your eyes to wonder.
Ben Moyer is a member of the Pennsylvania Outdoor Writers Association and the Outdoor Writers Association of America.