The Deer from Hell

My little dog and I set out for our evening walk and came across this pair, probably the same twins from my previous post. I'm sure mama deer wasn't far and they craned their necks at us as we passed by, not even bothering to go into the bush. My little dog seems always to attract the interest of other animals. For her part, she doesn't like deer and makes very sure that I am between them and her.

That would be because she remembers being attacked by just such a mama deer, with twins, in the very same location some years ago. There we were, minding our own business, walking down the hill as we do every evening. I'd seen the newborn twins ahead --- aww, so cute!-- and given them a minute or so to disappear into the bush before proceeding. The dog appeared to not even notice them. I'd thought the coast was clear.

To our utter amazement, mama deer came barreling out of the bush, bleating furiously. She straddled my small dog and began stomping her feet in an angry tattoo, evidently trying to crush my horrified pup. Shock and awe doesn't even begin to describe my reaction. Hey, we were totally minding our own business!

I rushed to the rescue, somehow snatching the dog from the hooves of doom. Mama deer did not give up. She continued to rush at us, still bleating -- I'd had no idea deer could make sounds like that -- with slobbery foam flying off her muzzle. She'd literally worked herself into a lather. We beat a retreat back up the hill to the safety of the house. She'd back into the bush momentarily, only to come flying out at us wild-eyed with renewed fury. She was the Deer from Hell.

Luckily we were physically unscathed, but emotionally? To this day, our small dog gives deer of any size, a very wide berth.

Tay-rrific!

If you want to see predators, get a little dog. Seriously. Preferably a small white fluffy dog. Then take her into the jungle. Yesterday, Bruce and I, with our little dog, went to the Hillbank road to check the camera trap. We replaced the CF card and then took a walk. The dog loves this.

There was a suspicious rustling overhead and the dog went into high alert. Ah, monkeys we said, peering into the treetops. A guan? Nope -- couldn't see either one. Shrugged and moved on. Something lean and dark dashed across the path and up a tree. Now the dog is really excited.

A tayra! No, two tayras! Wait, there are THREE tayras! We are totally amazed -- they are dashing up and down the tree trunks and branches, chattering in a noisy bird-like way and focused on the dog. I immediately pick up the dog -- I am no fan of dog-wildlife interactions. One of the two always comes out the loser.

The tayras, large members of the weasel family, are very agitated. They are bold, dashing up and down tree trunks and branches, craning their long necks to get a look at us, or more accurately, the dog. I wonder whether they will approach us, something I am not eager to encourage.

Known as "bushdog" in Belize, the tayra (Eira barbara) is classified as an omnivore. However, it is a competent predator reputed to hunt deer from the treetops. I viewed that claim dubiously until an entire busload of Chan Chich guests witnessed a dramatic encounter between a small deer and a tayra in the middle of the road. Some years later, I got camera trap photos of a tayra eating a brocket deer (Mazama americana) it had just killed. I have nothing but respect for this very efficient hunter.

At 11 pounds with a roughly 2-foot long body, the tayra weighs as much as the dog and were they curious! All three of them, craning their necks, bobbing their light colored heads and chattering incessantly. Clearly the dog's novel white coat is something they have not come across before. They are VERY interested. After a few minutes they have seen enough and disappear into the jungle.

Only then did I put our small dog down on the path.