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Where We Left Off:
The cat detectives and human biographer researched a bone discovery.
Farewell, My Lovely:
This hurts so much to write. Gus and Ollie are fine. It’s not that. After Gus and I came in from an adventure where we watched several deer friends in the yard, I was looking out a window in the living room. Gus was going to every door trying the handles to let himself back out even though I had already removed his harness. When we were both by the main front door, I picked him up and put him on top of the few inches of air conditioner in the window. He kept crying and I didn’t know why.
I remember seeing a school bus stop in the road. I wasn’t paying attention to it to notice anything odd. Other cars were going by as usual. I didn’t hear or see anything out of the ordinary. Gus continued to cry even after I put him down. That’s not odd either since he always cries when he comes in from an adventure, because he always wants to go right back out. It was around 07:00 AM and we had only just come inside at 06:54 AM.
I thought it strange that an oil delivery truck was stopped in front of the house when it wasn’t delivering oil. Why was it stopped where it was? We weren’t getting a delivery. I turned my head thinking maybe another school bus was stopped. It wasn’t a bus.
I saw a police car, an SUV technically, stopped in the road blocking the end of our driveway. The officer walked around his vehicle. I noticed an orange traffic cone in the middle of the road and assumed the cop put it there (he didn’t). Gus was still crying. My body felt anxious. What was going on?
It was 06:59 AM when one of the trailcams showed the last sighting.
The cop took out his gun and fired a shot towards the ground. I don’t know why, but my first thought was, “That’s not usually how you fire a flare gun.” Why did I think that?
Then I saw her.
It was 07:05 AM.
Her head was showing in front of the next door neighbor’s wall. The officer walked over to her, grabbed her by a leg, and dragged her to the opposite side of the road since there’s no space on our side to leave a dead body. He pulled her on to another neighbors’ front lawn near their parking spaces.
I know I had begun to shake. It might not have shown though. I relayed what I was seeing to The Cook.
“He shot her.” I felt dead inside.
I frantically typed a message The Butler: OMG COP JUST SHOT A DEER IN FRONT OF THE DRIVEWAY
The Cook was out of her chair and pacing aimlessly. She wasn’t going to look even though she always looks to see what’s going on in the neighborhood. A busybody, some might call her. In truth, she’s pretty bored when she’s not cooking and what else is there to do but keep watch over the comings and goings?
“And I was already depressed,” she said to no one in particular except maybe to Oliver, who was keeping close to her.
The cop waved the oil truck around his patrol car. The street is tricky like many around here. There are small hills, a lot of curves, and hidden driveways that make driving and walking difficult.
Not even a full minute later, the cop moved the orange traffic cone to the end of our driveway.
The Butler wrote back: Didn’t think they did that
I replied: Yeah I knew
That’s true. I know that if there’s any animal wounded on the road, cops are often dispatched to put them out of their suffering. However, I’ve seen our deer herd members limp for days, months, years until the end of their lives. They can get up and function on three legs as long nothing gets infected. They don’t have the best chances, but we had a deer mother named Virginia who limped most of her life and she was strong. She kept having babies. She didn’t appear to be in terrible agony though animals of all kinds hide their pains well.
After the cop pulled away, it took me some time to consciously move around. I made my way to one of the back doors. I slipped on a pair of boots. Gus jumped up into a bay window next to the door. He was still crying to go out. I wasn’t taking him with me. I left and walked over to the body across the street.
There was hardly blood at all at the site of the gunshot wound in her head. I only noticed the GSW entry and didn’t think to look for an exit. There might not have been one with a small caliber. The only thing that kept her from looking like she was lying down on her side and alive was that her tongue was out listlessly sprawled on the grass. It’s a sight that isn’t bloody yet grotesque.
I put a hand on her as I cried. As I felt along her side, that’s when my eyes shifted to her snowy white belly. She still had protruding nipples. She was a mother. Even if she didn’t have milk left, her fawn(s) would still try nursing. It’s what they do at this part of the season. When a fawn goes to nurse, the mother will kick them away. She wants them to be weaned…independent. That’s why wildlife rehabilitation places here won’t take fawns after September even if they have an injury that could be fixed with proper care. Rehabbers here won’t take adult deer at all.
Roadkill. That’s what our friend was now. She couldn’t be a mother or part of a herd anymore.
The traffic cone would allow the roadkill truck to spot the body. They’ll pick her up and take her away somewhere. I don’t know where. I wish I knew if it would go to some place useful like the wolf preserve up the highway.
I thought about crossing back to our yard to find the wheelbarrow to carry her to our place where the animals gather. There was no chance of me lifting her even if my shoulder didn’t hurt right now.
Hours later, I learned more facts of the case as told by The Cook. The Wild Man who camps was the one who called the police. I had seen his car on the security cameras and noticed the time he left seemed to be a strange coincidence. It turns out, the cop’s arrival was because of his phone call. He tried to contact the non-emergency number first, but there was no answer. I felt a little bit better crossing his name off the Suspect List.
Victimology:
When Gus and I had been in the back watching five or six of the herd (hard to tell when it’s that dark), only one walked over closer to the house and driveway. They usually come and go from the Forbidden Forest at the northern side. Was that one wanderer the one who was killed? Was that Simona? She’s the one closest to me and an actual wildlife friend ever since we stared into each other’s eyes across the Big Rock in 2024. As much as I don’t want to lose any of them unnaturally, I especially don’t want to lose her.
Hazel and her offspring Twiggy are tall and slender. We were pretty sure we could rule out either of them as the victim. The nursing teets indicated it wasn’t a Spring fawn which leaves Mąera, her children Ocheckka and Dani, and Simona and her mother Deerdra.
The best way to verify who she was is by waiting for the herd to come and observing their behavior.
Suspects:
Even though the patrol officer issued the killing blow with a GSW, someone had to have hit her with a vehicle. They didn’t stop? Who doesn’t stop to check their car after such an accident? A lot of cars would be considered totaled; plus, to put in any insurance claim, a driver needs the police report. Whoever hit her, left the crime scene. It’s possible they could pick up the police report at the end of the day or tomorrow. That is, unless, whoever hit her didn’t want to face the cops. Someone with an existing warrant, perhaps?
The time of opportunity window is so small in this case if we accept the assumption that the deer hit was one Gus and I had been watching—last seen at 06:54 AM on camera. If we eliminate that assumption about the time last seen, it changes the case significantly.
Maybe she had been lying there the entire time we were out and we didn’t see her in the dark. We got close to that spot where she was found. Very close. But it was dark and traffic scared Gus. He spun around to try and get into one of the doors, but I knew that door had to be locked. He pulled me rapidly to the next door, which I also tried and it was also locked. He ran around the building and approached the unlocked door, but didn’t ask to go in that time.
Could she have been lying there for longer? Yes. It’s possible, but I think we got the timeline accurate based on the behavior of the surviving members of the herd on trailcam.
That makes the entire situation even more emotional. Maybe Gus knew, but because of the traffic, he couldn’t take me to her. This means I failed her too. I know not as bad as the driver, but still, I feel like I could have done better now that I’m seeing this case after a yoga break.
Case Findings:
On October 15, 2025, the police responded to a call about an injured deer who was the victim of a hit and run. The officer at the scene shot the doe with one gunshot wound to the head. The officer then dragged the body to someone’s front lawn. That neighbor was the one who initially put the traffic cone out. We don’t have information on whether anyone in that household tried to call for help. We do know that The Wild Man was exiting the private road and noticed her. He called the police.
Unless the neighbors offer up their security footage, we will never be able to track down the driver responsible.
Hours after the police officer left, a municipal worker marked the body with orange spray paint to indicate to others that this incident was already called in. The only way for the neighbors to get rid of the body now is to bare the fee of having a private service come take her away or wait and see if the county will do anything. If not, she’ll stay there on their front lawn until the scavengers take care of it.
Case Status: Closed/Unsolved