On my daily walk I came upon something dumped in the riverbed, wrapped up in a bloody tarp. It was a deer. Upon closer inspection I found tiny deer spots in an enclosed sac. I remember reading that deer abort their young in the event of trauma but it must have all happened pretty fast because the little one was still entangled in the bowels of the deer. I separated as much as I could of the remains looking for a second baby to no avail. I got her cleaned her up and put her in a jar of 70% alcohol and formaldahyde (from a local science student). She now has a new home away from the vultures and ants, next to my Playboys and night water glass. Now she just needs a name.
