It was a lazy weekend afternoon. I was just relaxing sitting by the window, and my thoughts were wandering beyond the confines of my dwelling. In fact, one of my favorite form of relaxation (aside from blogging), is just staring blankly beyond the blue. It’s transcendental daydreaming.
My quiet musing was disrupted by the sight of familiar visitors intruding and frolicking in my yard. Even though I’m used to seeing deers in my lawn, something was quite different this time.
As I observed them more closely, I noticed that one of the deer was limping. I hurriedly grabbed our camera, and zoomed in to see closer.
I was surprised that one of the hind legs of the limping deer was rotated backward. It appeared that it was dislocated from the hip or fractured above the knee. (Maybe I’ll have a career in veterinary orthopedics.) Perhaps she had a close encounter with a speeding car: got mesmerized with its headlights and did not move out of the way quickly enough. But she lived and did not become a roadkill. And she had the evidence to show of that tragic encounter.
My first reaction was I felt sorry for the deer. That must be a painful experience. And perhaps more painful to struggle with everyday existence with her injury.
Deers are agile animals. They are fast runners and strong leapers. Thanks to their powerful hind legs. But with only one good hind leg, this deer was in a great disadvantage. How could she survive in this cruel world?
I thought of giving her food by bringing it out in my porch. However, something stopped me. First, I may just scare them away when they see me go out. Second, my wife would probably get mad at me, as I know she really hate those deers, for they massacre her flowers. And besides, by providing food for that deer, would I help her situation or just make it worse?
That deer did not asked for my pity. What she asked for is time and chance, to show me and the other creatures, that she is fine and that she can rise above this tragedy and survive on her own (three) feet.
How about us? Do we gripe that life is unfair and cruel? Or maybe we already had been wounded and injured. Do we give up and wallow in self-pity? Do we continue to parade our open wounds so people would show us mercy? Or do we lick our wounds and rise to the occasion and overcome the adversities that life had dealt us with?
I noticed that the deer was moving with ease and had no apparent distress despite of her injury, telling me somehow that her accident was quite a while back already. As she scurry and bounced away gracefully, albeit with a limp, somehow she showed me, that she had learned to adapt to her condition and that she had already conquered her disability. She had three good legs left, and that’s all she need to survive.