Page 105
CHRIS
Shit shit shit shit shit. I got out of the car and started jogging after Larissa.
“Hey, wait!”
She was already halfway to the fence. The little deer saw her and started bleating and struggling to break free.
My heart lurched.
“It’s okay,” she said gently, approaching the fence. “I’m gonna get you out.”
“Larissa, leave it.”
“Christopher, I am not abandoning this baby here,” she said, still walking.
I looked around nervously. The distress call was going to bring its mom. The mom was going to be aggressive.
“Help me get her out,” she said, crouching.
“I really don’t think we should touch it.”
She examined the fencing while the tiny animal wriggled. “Awwwww! It has the little spots.” She pivoted to look at me. “If you do not help me, you’re going to hell.”
“I think we might already be there.”
She laughed. “STOP. Go check your car. You have to have something in there to help get her out.”
I let out a breath. Then I went to the car to see if I had nail clippers.
Ten minutes later she was holding the fawn still while I made cuts in the plastic netting a fraction of an inch at a time. The fence was up against bushes so both our heads were in the leaves.
“We’re probably going to be covered in ticks,” I grumbled.
“Well, you’re just going to have to have someone check you,” she said. “Poor little thing. I wonder how long it’s been here. She’s so tiny, she’s probably only a few days old. What if Mom doesn’t come back for her?”
“Mom coming back is what I’m worried about.”
She looked at it softly. “We should probably take it to a wildlife rehabilitation center.”
“I’m not putting this thing in my car.”
She gave me a disapproving look. “You put Woofarine in your car. He was way dirtier.”
“This is a wild animal, Larissa.”
“So is Woofarine.”
I snorted.
“It’s our responsibility as the ones with opposable thumbs to rescue animals caught in man-made death traps,” she said.
“Would you rescue a skunk?” I asked, clipping.
She thought about it. “Maybe.”
“What about a snapping turtle.”
She eyed me.
