Wild Kingdom

In what will be a rare break from the domestic and yet oh-so-solitary bliss that will be my summer, here is a story about death.

It's pretty gross.

I'm just letting you know in advance, so if you're sensitive, you can skip it and read all my cute baby animal stories where nothing dies.

Okay.

I was taking Radar out for a walk yesterday evening. Our general practice is to walk down the road, since I (typoed "we," but since dog is deaf...) can hear a vehicle coming about two minutes in advance of its arrival. Walking toward the road, with our neighbors' dog, Budro, following us, I noticed a brown lump in the middle of the driveway.

"Hmm," I thought. "What's that? Grass?"

Then I realized that it had pointy ears. A diamond-shaped face. Tiny hooves. And a big chunk missing out of its spotted side.

I stopped and tried to figure out what to do. How does a dead fawn get in the middle of the driveway? More importantly, how was one to get it off the driveway? I had some thoughts about both the first and second questions, but I didn't really want to think about either.

Because I was sad, and didn't want to look at it any closer, Radar and I took a short cut through the grass out to the road. After taking a longer-than-usual walk to the stream and back, I had finally steeled myself to getting the snow shovel from the shed, placing the body in the woods, and covering it with some of the branches my landlord has piled all over the property.

We arrived back at the house just in time to see my neighbor's dog grab the fawn by the neck, drag it into the grass, and begin eating it. I could hear bones snap in his mouth.

My feelings about this were not at all what I would have expected. I wasn't repulsed or disgusted. If anything, I registered mild anger, and surprise that our mild-mannered neighbor dog would be acting this way.

My first thought was relief that I didn't have to move the body on my own. The second was that I was right in my initial suspicion that the neighbor's dog had killed the deer, which was, as much as I hated it, the only logical explanation I had for how it had come to be in the driveway. The third thought was that I was reminded very much of all those nature shows I watched as a child, except that, instead of a lion and a gazelle, it was a dog and a fawn. I thought about how easy it is to forget that the line between domesticity and wildness is so thin.

Then I thought, "I'm pretty sure this is illegal in Pennsylvania."

Dogs killing deer is also illegal in West Virginia, but not, apparently, in Virginia.

Here is my dilemma. I feel fairly confident that my neighbor has no idea what Budro is up to. Should I tell her? It's apparently common for dogs that chase deer to be shot by landowners, and I'm also nervous that he might try to take down one of the calves who live nearby.

So, do I tell her? And, how does one go about telling their neighbor that their dog eats baby deer?

Advice is appreciated, needed.