Chet Baker, Birdwatcher, Deerchaser

Chet Baker has had some pretty extraordinary encounters with wildlife, and we owe species #183 for our property list to him--a Virginia rail that he found and flushed in our backyard last October 19, 2008.

He takes notice of birds, and when he was a pup he used to watch and try to chase turkey vultures that swooped low over the yard, even jumping up to see if he could touch one!

Now, I watch him on our hikes, and I enjoy trying to get photos of him birdwatching. On an early spring hike, we heard a male cardinal singing very loudly at the top of a bare tree. Chet headed right over.


He circled the base of the trunk, trying to get a better vantage point.


The cardinal was equally curious, watching this funny pied animal, watching him.


I like a dog who notices birds.

But then, I like this dog anyway.

A much more typical Baker encounter with wildlife is his morning deer chase. I know a lot of people hate to see dogs running deer, but Chet runs deer in a most civilized way. When he first wakes up, he goes to the patio window to see if he can spot any deer in the meadow. There usually are some, but he can't see them until they move or flick their white tails. Then he moans and cries until someone lets him out.

You again. You little black nuisance, you.

Chet streaks out the path like a black bullet, sometimes tumbling head over heels in his haste. That dog can MOVE.

The deer flip up their tails and lope toward the woods.


Baker slams on the brakes. He don't like prickers, so he gives up the moment the deer enter the brambles. He gives a ferocious rrrowwf! as he gives them the bum's rush.



But he always stops to show them who the Boss of #1 is.

Meadow Deer

This morning I saw a big doe sneaking through a sumac thicket just behind the house, and I ran to get my long lens. She’d changed over into winter hair, all soft and blue. Her two fawns ran to join her.

Deer used to come right up to the house and graze in the yard all winter. I loved that, and took a lot of wonderful pictures with my little Olympus. That was BC: Before Chet Baker. Deer no longer graze in the yard during the day. He’s all over them. In fact, he starts many mornings by standing on the high back deck, scrutinizing the meadow for the dim shapes of deer. When he spots them, he lights out down the steps and streaks across the meadow, his hind legs flying out behind him, sometimes tripping and rolling over a few times in his haste. He chases them, their hooves thudding ahead of him, but he slams on the brakes and stops when they enter the woods. I love that about him. Truth be told, it probably has to do with protecting his protruding eyes. Chet hates the thick briars that ring our meadow, and he won’t run through them, thank goodness. Corneal abrasions are good things to avoid.

I’m always amazed at how widely deer can flare their tail hairs when they need to signal alarm, and how they can tuck that same tail when they’re trying to escape unnoticed. . When they have some warning, they flare the tail to tell you they know you’re there. It’s a white flag, but not one of surrender. The message is more like, “There’s no use trying to catch me. I know you’re there, and I’ve got a lead on you.” On the other hand, you know you’ve really surprised a deer when it tucks its tail, drops its head and flattens out in a dead gallop. In this situation, it doesn’t want to draw any more attention to itself.

This little button buck had to stop and stare over his shoulder at me before joining his mother and sister. What a cutie.

They moved across the meadow, stopping to sniff at our freezer-burned meatpile, which the turkey vultures have been enjoying immensely. I love how the Virginia pines set off the emerging autumn colors. And oh, how I love deer in the meadow. I did not tell Chet Baker they were there.