In the last post I used deer as a metaphor, more or less in passing. For whatever reasons, I woke up this morning thinking about that. Maybe it's because I was an avid deer hunter for a couple of decades in central Minnesota, sitting in tree forts...errr... deer stands in cold, wind, snow, and silence while chickadees landed on my head and my rifle barrel. (I also got to be a pretty hot cribbage player.) Whitetail deer is a subject I know something about. I've read extensively and studied them in the field over many years. I've dissected well over a dozen specimens and studied their anatomy intently. (It's called field-dressing.) But it all came to an end one November morning circa 1995. I was up a tree, studying two big does through my rifle scope, They were 75 yards away, across a small ravine. I steadied on the largest. She was broadside to me and an easy shot. I was in the act of squeezing the trigger when I had “moment” and realized I didn't want to shoot anymore deer. I unloaded the rifle and climbed my sorry butt down out of the tree, and that was that. Don't ask me. I don't know. These things happen, I guess. Anyway, let's get on with the business at hand.
There isn't any accurate way to know how many whitetail deer there were in North America before the Euro-trash arrived, but it was certainly far fewer than it is today. Deer don't thrive in mature forest. There's not much to eat if the trees are big and there's little growing on the forest floor. Given a choice, deer prefer the margins between deep cover and fields or grassland. Logging and agriculture creates wonderful habitat for deer. (So does modern suburban residential development.) But deer were also very much in the human food chain, and by 1900 they were in danger of being hunted to extinction.
Nowadays the damn things have overrun a lot of the country. They're a bane to farmers and gardeners, and a serious traffic hazard. We've eradicated many of their natural predators because we're too chickenshit to coexist with wolves and big cats. The only real predator deer have left in most places is us. And since most of us object to bullets and arrows flying around our neighborhoods, we aren't too effective at preying on them locally. Except with our cars. So in many parts of the US there are chronic local over-population problems. I live in the city, but along the Mississippi River bluffs, which are steep and heavily wooded. I watch deer prance across the street here almost every day. A couple of times I've had to stop my car in the street to let small groups of does and fawns cross.
Deer care about some of the same things we do; food, water, our children, staying warm and dry, and avoiding getting killed for as long as possible. And here in the north they face an energy crisis* every winter. As cold weather grinds on, there's less and less to eat, i.e. less and less energy to stay warm. If the snow gets deep, it takes more and more energy to look for less and less food. What do they do? They huddle up in refugee camps* called “deer yards.” That sounds vaguely pleasant and pastoral, but that's not the truth. Deer yards for many are no more than places to die. The food runs out, and they die slowly. Coyotes or wolves may take some, if there are wolves or coyotes available. Deer are strictly herbivores, so cannibalism doesn't come up they way it does for humans. For lucky individuals the snow pack will melt soon enough for them to make it. Or not.
Why deer yard up like this isn't settled science.** It's not hard-coded genetically. It's learned, adaptive behavior that has a survival value we don't fully understand. But while the behavior may be the best thing for the species, it's not necessarily the best choice for individual deer. They're smart, adaptable animals. But critical thinking isn't something they're good at and don't seem to be able to learn. Once yarded up, they tend to stay that way even when the future is obvious.
On the other hand, for us humans critical thinking is something we can learn, and as we've already noted, it's a good survival skill. As individuals, it serves us very well when we bother to do it. The trouble is, we don't seem to be able to do it in packs or herds. Unless we're under duress, we're lazy. If there happens to be a smart, strong Alpha who cares about the pack or herd more than his own skin, the critical thinking may get done and be acted on. The pack might thrive. The herd may eat well. But often that's not the case. Most of the time, when we make it through a winter. it's on the strength of social or economic momentum, or sheer dumb luck.
Just something for you to think about the next time you turn on your TV. And if you think you hear an odd noise in the woods, remember to look up.
* I try to flag metaphors with something obvious, but don't blame me if you miss any.
**Here's a good article on deer yarding if you're interested: http://www.deeranddeerhunting.com/biology/why-do-deer-starve-themselves-in-winter
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