Bambi
Bambi A protective and loving doe escorted her twin fawns to the pile of corn to eat and stood guard with protruded ears on high alert sniffing for danger. In my childhood, I witnessed the deer my father shot on his annual hunting trip when he dragged a dead doe and a dead fawn through the outdoor cellar doors, down the ashen cement steps to rest in the basement between the glazed coal-burning furnace and my father’s long wooden workbench with a red metal vise attached at the
