A spotted fallow buck deer, similar to the one discussed in the text. Note the moose-like, palmated antler appearing on the opposite side of the deer. Deer occasionally become entangled in barbed wire when attempting to jump a fence. How the one mentioned was held by one four-foot strand and able to attempt escaping unsuccessfully is unknown. (Photo by John Jefferson)

 

by John Jefferson

A longtime Aggie friend, Larry Tatum, sent me a disturbing video this week. A man with dubious sense had his hands full when the video opened. Both hands firmly gripped the antlers of a healthy, young, whitetail buck. For the next few minutes, the buck wildly tossed the man every which way but loose!

He wisely held onto the antlers, keeping them from striking his eyes and face. The frantic buck’s thrashing hooves were also extremely lethal!
I could have told him that would be dangerous. In the 60s, near Kerrville one afternoon, I came upon a young eight-pointer anchored to a fence by his antlers. He would have died slowly as many like that do.

I tediously untangled his antlers. That’s unusual. Deer usually get tangled up by their hind legs when trying to jump fences. As they tuck their legs, their feet go through the space between the wire strands which wrap around their legs tightly as they fall, leaving them hanging head-down. The fall often injures them internally. Sequestered there, they sadly become coyote bait.

Knowing now what I didn’t then, was how the buck would react. To say thanks for helping him get loose, he hooked me in the thigh with an antler point before running off. (At least it was in the thigh!) They’re wild animals and don’t appreciate help when it comes.

Years later, I saw a trophy fallow buck deer on the Y.O. Ranch, anchored to a fence by one wire strand about four feet long with wire hopelessly wrapped around his antlers. I wish I could have seen how he accomplished that.

He would leap away from the fence to escape but would be violently jerked back to the fence when he got to the end of the four feet of wire holding him — like someone running neck-first into a clothes-line in the dark. He was so powerful that his body kept moving although the wire yanked his head back, flipping him through the air and landing on his back or side with a loud “Whomp!”

There was nothing I could safely do. That happened before cell phones. It was about time for the ranch cook to come down the road from her house several miles away to fix breakfast. I flagged her down, showed her the situation, and asked her to send help. She did.

A ranch wildlife specialist arrived about 15- minutes later and — with my help — held the buck down after a “Whomp,” and administered a tranquilizer shot as it lay there between leaps. The wildlife specialist hand-clipped the wire loose from its head as it snoozed.

When it began to stir twenty minutes later, it finally wobbled off. We never saw it again — nor saw buzzards – -so figured it survived. That buck was worth several thousand dollars to the ranch. It would have either died from a broken neck or internal injuries from hitting the ground.

I’m glad I came along when I did.

JJ