3 minute read
Life With Loretta
from October 2021
Gò0dNews for Everyone
Life With Loretta
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by Bill Fortenberry
My wife and I were watching Coal Miner’s Daughter when Autumn, our daughter, called to us.
“She came back!” she said. “Come here!”
Standing in our backyard was a brave and curious doe, bearing the same distinctive white patches above each of her cloven hooves and a dark triangle on her face, the markings of a previous year’s visitor.
Autumn had tossed tomatoes, carrots, apples, and celery to her last year to gain her trust. Now, this gentle whitetail had returned.
“Well, hey there, Loretta,” I said. “Loretta?” Autumn asked. She didn’t care for the name I had chosen, inspired by the pride of Butcher Holler. For the rest of that summer, Loretta would come to our backyard and stare intently toward the door as if to say, “Where’s the girl who feeds me?” By summer’s end, the beautiful russet doe was coming to the patio for treats, a welcome diversion in 2020. Her deep brown eyes brought a sense of calm and civility to a tumultuous year of racial strife, divisive politics, and the first waves of the COVID-19 pandemic.
Loretta returned this spring, this time accompanied by two spotted fawns, two yearlings—her offspring from the previous year—and, new to the mix, three bucks, antlers still covered in velvet.
We purchased a mineral block, oats, and split peas to go along with the celery and carrots we knew Loretta favored.
By the first day of summer, she was eating from Autumn’s hand, and she had learned to come to the windowsill where my determined daughter had placed celery sticks dipped in peanut butter.
We were careful not to feed her too often or too much, until mid-summer when our neighbor came to the door.
Loretta has a broken leg, he told Autumn. It turns out that everyone in our neighborhood has taken to calling her Loretta. Her leg was in bad shape, putting her off balance, especially when her fawns came for milk. In a world where only the fittest survive, Loretta and her fawns now needed us.
And, truth be told we needed her.
Loretta’s return brought joy and wonder to a world filled with hate and cynicism. Those things dissipate when Loretta comes to the backdoor. Her sudden, comical appearance never fails to bring a smile, even when we discover she has eaten all the blooms of the Black-eyed Susans.
When work frustrations became too much to bear, Loretta was there, her oats-covered nose making us laugh. When the deltavariant of COVID overfilled our hospitals, we watched and listened as she crunched carrots and celery sticks. And, when the stress of returning to college for her senior year was too much for Autumn, Loretta stopped by, decimating the sunflower seeds in a nearby bird feeder.
The fawns are now weaned. Autumn is back at college, and Loretta has begun to retreat. It’s as if she knows her girl isn’t home. Still, in those moments when life gets to be too much, Loretta pops up, her round eyes staring directly at me.
I think she’s a godsend, His gentle reminder to stay calm, be patient, and trust Him.
About The Author
Bill Fortenberry worked 17 years as a newspaper reporter, editor and columnist, and has worked in healthcare communications since 2001. Bill serves as the chairman of the board of managers of Haven Health Clinic for Women and is a men’s ministry leader and small group facilitator at his church, HBC Rome. He and his wife, Lisa, have two children, Ethan and Autumn. A storyteller at heart, Bill writes an occasional blog at kudzudad.blogspot.com.
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