This morning my friend Jack and I were returning from breakfast when we stopped to look at some property. It is rural farmland and a guy was cutting hay in the field at the time. As we pulled off the highway and into a little dirt way beside the creek, there was a fawn stuck in the fence. If he was bigger than the deer in this photograph, it wasn't by much.

His hind legs had gotten caught up in the wire fencing. As we worked at freeing him, I thought we'd get him out but also thought he was going to have at least one broken or dislocated leg from thrashing around. The poor little thing cried like the devil as we struggled to get his legs out.

Then I looked up and saw mama mule deer. She had heard the cries of distress. She ran back across the highway. The deer come down and cross the road to get water in the creek (actually, the East Fork of the Virgin River, but it's what most people would consider a creek, not a full-fledged river). They become road kill all the time and it is awful. The worst times are early morning and at dusk.

After about ten minutes, we got it freed and it ran off, apparently on four good legs. It was quite a relief. We felt a sweet feeling of accomplishment, for the fawn would surely have died hung up in that fence.

My friend, a lifelong country boy, looked at me, the transplanted city boy, and said, "Well, you saved Bambi." I know that he's shot more than his share of these critters and didn't think as much of our good deed as I did. But I admit that I got a nice glow of satisfaction seeing that little guy run off down the dirt road.

I hope his mom finds him soon, and they can avoid the highway traffic in the process. But this is tourist season. Traffic increases tremendously this time of the year. Here's wishing the little guy a long life...

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