On our Christmas card last year was pictured an injured spike whose recovery was greatly aided by two young fawns. Rhodie, as he later was named, had suffered severe trauma as a result of being hit by a car.

Although his recovery was slow, he was left with a bare minimum of human contact in the lower enclosure. Just before his release, Rhodie was definitely a wild animal and very much not interested in being even remotely near humans. It was his intact fear of man that makes this story so special and so very unusual.

Just about a year ago, Rhodie left his home of 18 months and took up residence at his new location. This involved arranging for transportation by Cindy David and a moving crew of about ten volunteers to assist her. The work party was scheduled to begin at around 1 pm and with the usual complications finally got underway at about 1:30 pm.

Cindy decided that she was going to try to lead Rhodie out of the lower area with a leash and into the trailer for his move. After a trial run of just a few minutes, it was decided that this was not going to be a good idea as he was not being cooperative or receptive to the idea. We now move to plan B. The fence would be temporarily opened, the trailer that was to be used for transport was to be moved into the lower compound, and Rhodie would be placed in it. The fence would then be reopened, the trailer removed, and the fence closed. The question arose about his security, and it was decided to sedate him after he was in the trailer.

After much discussion and suggestions by the entire crew, it was finally decided by Cindy that he should be relaxed before the placement of his transport in the enclosure. This all sounded so logical and easy that warning bells should have been going off all over the place.

Rhodie was munching on leaves in the corner, watching the confusion and discussion among those who thought they were going to move him. Cindy went to the clinic to get the syringe to start the operation. He calmly moved to the center of the lower field. Licorice and Rosemary, his young roommates, moved away slowly, aware but not yet alarmed at all of the fuss and activity in their field. Cindy returned, attempting to hide the needle behind her back and sneak up on Rhodie.

Two people (in theory) would hold Rhodie and Cindy would administer the shot. Of course, as soon as Cindy arrived, Rhodie put his ears up, his head went down, the assistants tried to outrun and grab him, and the show was on. In the final outcome, Rhodie was indeed sedated, moved to the top of the hill, carried in a blanket by those trying to help him, and prepared for the trip to his new home. The usual problems developed during the trip, including the guest of honor partially awakening from his tranquilizer too soon, a prolonged stop for a medication Cindy felt was needed, and, of course, a few wrong turns and traffic more congested than expected.

Rain and early sunset were starting to fall as we arrived at the final destination. The caravan was expected and all was in readiness for the final trip up the mountain to his new quarters. After a much-needed "rest break" for the entire crew, we all got into as few cars as possible, got to the locked gate, transferred to the bed of the tow truck waiting for us, and down the hill we went to the protected, privately-owned release site. It was a narrow, rough road with trees on both sides, rolling hills barely visible through the low vegetation, knee-high grass peeking through the undergrowth, and a mist falling from the fog rolling in from the west. It was indeed deer country of the finest kind. The truck came to a stop in a clearing that could have been painted by Norman Rockwell. All of us got out of the truck and awaited Cindy who was checking our patient/guest of honor. Food was placed just outside the door of the trailer, and the ramp was lowered. We all stepped way back to give him room and waited to see if he would exit quietly, run for the opening, or what would go unexpectedly wrong.

Rhodie did not disappoint the fortunate gathering. As was his manner, with dignity and grace, he lifted his head, stood up in the trailer, turned, and quietly walked down the ramp as if this was an everyday situation. Once out of the trailer, he took in the surroundings, stretched his neck, and took a few nibbles from the food dish now resting at his feet. He wandered around nibbling at grass stalks, breathing true freedom in a secure environment for the first time. He continued to the edge of a rise by a treeline, followed at a respectable distance by the entire group of volunteers and guests, and disappeared over the edge and was out of sight. This could have been the end to a perfect release had it not been for the fact that we were dealing with an animal that had come to surprise and amaze all of us during his stay at the clinic.

As we were preparing to leave, closing up the trailer and chatting among ourselves, an event started to unfold that touched the heart of everyone at the site. Rhodie came back up over the edge of the ridge and headed straight for the group at a slow, deliberate pace. He walked directly to the group of visitors and stopped. He allowed them, one at a time, to pet him for a few seconds and then moved to the next person in line. When he was satisfied that each person had been given equal time, he moved to the volunteers. One by one he would select a person, lay his head in their hand, close his eyes, and let that person stroke his chin. He then would rub his head against their body and move on. When the last person had petted him for the last time, he turned and walked back to the edge of the rise. He stopped and turned his head to look at us as a group and vanished into the brush.

We got into the truck for our journey back up the hill and to civilization. It was indeed a very somber and exalted group in that truck, each of us dealing with our own feelings and emotions in our own way. Had we said good-bye to a friend or had he said good-bye and thank you to us? Who knows. I think it was the latter. He is free now, living as a wild creature. I was honored to be invited to his release and will carry with me for the rest of my life the picture of him walking over that ridge and existing as he should. Be safe, friend. We were all touched by you.