Maudie's legs could barely support her weight when I first saw her. I was rounding a curve the road and there she was. Standing right in my lane. Screeching tires and blowing the horn didn't move her. I turned on my flashers and parked in the middle of the road to protect anyone else from hitting her. Shouting and arm winging still only made her tremble. As I approached she just stood there and waited. She let me pick her up. I was very nervous as I moved her to the other side of the road in the grass. Suppose mother was close or a predator ... my heart went out to her, but not to the extent of having bodily harm to myself. When I was about to set her down in the grass a terrible stench violated my nostrils. Looking around I saw a deer laying down the hill, blown up and cover with flies. Holding my breath I took a closer look. It was a doe with a full utter. "Well little girl I guess I can't leave you here," I tried to sooth the fawn. My maternal instincts were out weighing common sense. I put Maudie in the back seat and she didn't move. Every mile I went I imagine her poncing on me with those sharp hooves. It never happened. In WV we are miles from any rescue centers. So I formulated a plan and stop at the neighbors that I knew had raised a fawn a few years ago. Relief, flooded me as I pull into his drive way and saw his truck. It was short lived fantasy when he explained he didn't have the time. They were a lot of work and she wasn't going to make it any way. Looking at her laying on the back seat I figured he was right, but I had already gotten involved. He gave me the best advise hecould and told me to not feed her cow's milk, which was my first thought. Dried or skimmed would do for a short while, but goat milk was what I'd need, if she made it that long. I knew I had some powered milk, so I sadly returned home. Maudie laid in the back seat until I got in and fixed her a bed and bottle. She won't suck so I took the nipple off and pured warm milk into her mouth. I doubt if she got an ounce in and I probably wasted 4 ounce, before wiping her off and laying her in the corner on her bed. about and hour later I noticed her raising her head. Cool! I grabbed the bottle a warmed some more milk. She actually tried to eat this time, At least two ounces before it started running out the corners of her mouth and making a mess. When I laid her down this time I had some hope. I phoned everyone I knew and finally found some canned goat milk in at the local grocery store. Off I went, canned goat milk and a variety of nipple sizes and home again. The trip took about an hour. When I returned she was sitting up. I cut the end off one of the nipples and she swallowed and actually tried to suck about four ounces of goat milk this time. Maybe the taste made the difference... Maybe just getting some liquid in her helped ... maybe just knowing she had some one who cared .. I don't know, but I had no more than laid down on the couch to rest for the even and she was up. I fixed another bottle and she stood to nurse, went to her bed and dropped. By morning I woke to a wet nose in my face. Another bottle and the expensive canned goat milk was getting low. Back on the phone, I found a lady that ran a goat farm a couple of miles up the road. She had regular customers and no milk to spare. I told her about poor little Maudie and she caved and let me buy a gallon on put me on her customer list. (picture 1) She had the neatness farm. She had inherited two sharp ridges nothing could inhabit, but goats and she had a lama to protect them from the coyotes. (That will be a future hub.)

She slept beside my bed, when she got around enough to choose her spot.(picture 2)

Needless to say, Maudie grew and flourished and stole my heart. She was into everything. Including the crap table I had set up in the living room. (picture 3).

All to soon she was going out side exploring her natural world (picture 4

When I was trying to stage pictures for my son's new bride to be, Maudie had to get in it. She didn't care about out time schedule it was bottle time for her. So we hid her bottle under the bouquet , put a ribbon on her and she went to dove into her lunch. (picture 5) That's why her head is blurred. Didn't have digital in those days.

By the time fall came she was visiting with the local deer.This is how she looked the last time I saw her, right before I took her collar off and let her go be what she was meant to be. (picture 6) Broke my heart, she never returned. It took years before I understood that this is a success story, just not the outcome I selfishly wanted, but the one that was meant to be. Glad I have the opportunity to share it with her and now you.