Woke up to this group of does and their babies. I love how they seem to be the same little group. Always together. The moms all looking out for each others young, nudging them along. Sweet.
And then, this little guy tried so hard to get in our house. He had the cutest, black whiskers. He nibbled on a Clementine peel that he must have fished out of our garbage, and maybe thought there was more where that came from. Molly cried with fright at the sight of him staring in the house, and giggled and waved to him, as he walked away.
And my friends situation has gone from worse, to dire. As I sat and made a list of the things the girls had asked Santa for, I wished there was something we could do to truly help them out of the mess they are in. I know how desperate they feel. Getting kicked in the gut, when you are already doubled over in pain is hard to recover from. It doesn't seem like there is an end in sight some days.
That doe really looked into my eyes this morning.