by Hal Walter
Out for a run one afternoon in October, I was negotiating a burro down a steep trail that cuts from one cul-de-sac to another in a nearby subdivision. Downhill and to my right I saw a doe deer literally flopping down the hill through the trees. The animal appeared unable to gain its balance or to stand up.
I stopped and watched as the deer came to a rest, then I tied my burro to a tree and walked down to get a closer look. The doe flopped over a couple more times then lay still. I looked her over as closely as possible. I could see no broken legs or apparent gunshot wounds — which was my first guess since the first big game rifle season had opened the previous day.