He burst around a bend in the trail, running full speed, and skidded to a stop 15 feet from me. Our eyes locked. His were wide and filled with fear. His sides heaved as his breath came in deep pants. He was soaked, dripping with water or sweat, I couldn’t tell. Long strings of drool dripped from his mouth as his antlers crowned his magnificent head.

It was obvious something had been chasing him. And I was in his way. He took two steps toward me and lowered his antlers a bit. I calmly said, “It’s okay. I’m not who’s trying to hurt you. Run on. Go fast.” He stopped, took a deep breath, and then leaped down the steep mountainside. 

I stood there listening to him move through the woods and creek below. Maybe three minutes later, I heard dogs barking. As they came closer, I started yelling at them. Of course that did nothing to stop them. They were huge, black dogs and even though I caused them to pause, they doubled back and ran on. When they picked up his scent, they screamed their barks and crashed through the creek far below.

Fury arose in me. This is a national park. Hunting is illegal, so is running dogs through it. These dogs didn’t have collars, like the usual hunting dogs have that run through the park terrorizing wildlife. I don’t know what they were except hell-bent on catching the deer.

I was almost two miles from my car, so couldn’t help the deer by running back to call for a ranger. I hoped the eight-point buck outwitted the dogs. How I hoped that, for him and his potential descendants.

Even now, many hours after the encounter, I feel that buck’s fear–but more than that–I feel his strength and stamina, his defiance as he stepped towards me, and then his trust that I wasn’t his enemy. 

When faced with a panicked, wild animal, I never know how I will react, but some higher part of me stepped in to connect with the buck. I didn’t have time to feel afraid. I had to reassure him that I was no threat…quickly…but encourage him to keep moving because whatever was chasing him was surely coming.

The experience awakened some strength in me that rose above fear. The deer and I connected profoundly in those moments. He gifted me with something I feel deeply in my bones, but I struggle to assign words to. I am wilder, stronger, smarter, wiser for the momentary communion with this king of the forest.