May 11, 2020
A story of his youth from Evan Rohrbough.
Thought I would share a memory. At 2:30 AM this morning [Sunday May 10, 2020], I was driving home from Susan’s house in San Jose, California. It is normally an uneventful five mile trip from her home to mine. Particularly so now with sheltering in. Anyway, this morning I was treated to the sight of two large bucks grazing on the vegetation in the median strip. Both were sleek and healthy. One was a four point, the other a three point. Both were in the velvet making their antlers appear a little larger. They were about two hundred and fifty yards from my house. While that time of the morning does bring out the wildlife, it’s not like I live in the country these days.
Growing up – I did live in the country, in rural Mendocino County, California. Being outside was the deal when we were kids – playing sports, hunting, fishing, tending livestock & doing chores. One favored activity was hunting coyotes and jackrabbits in the foothills behind our house. In my sophomore year of high school, my buddy Sonny and I were on one of those missions when we found an abandoned fawn. The little guy was too weak to even attempt an escape so we brought him home.
The odds of survival for newborn, abandoned animals is low, in fact, really really low. I had already brought home enough strays in my 15 years so I knew his chances were almost nil. This fawn had the determination and the fight to survive. He was named Pokey. My grandfather quickly bonded with Pokey. He constructed a comfortable enclosure between the backyard fence and the chicken house. As deer are considered wildlife, approval was needed to keep Pokey. The local Game Warden signed off on accommodations and feeding regimen, and Pokey became a member of the family.
By the time I was ready to leave for college, Pokey already had two small sets of antlers mounted on a long 1×4” board. [Bucks shed their antlers each year during January to April and then new antlers will regenerate throughout the summer.] Over the years, six more sets would be mounted onto the board, each set a little larger than the previous year. One morning when I was away in college, I received a frantic phone call from my mom saying that Pokey had escaped. Happily, he was soon located grazing in an adjacent pasture and he was happy enough to return to the safety of his quarters.
Fast forward to Pokey’s ninth birthday, I was now out of school, gainfully employed and I just happened to be home for a family visit. I soon learned that Pokey was sick with pneumonia, and he was not going to survive. I understood the gravity of my grandfather’s feelings when he brought out his best canvas for Pokey’s burial. We solemnly returned him to the foothills where his life had begun. It is fair to say that my mom and grandmother were not always fully on board with Pokey, but the joy he gave to my grandpa is an unforgettable memory.
Submitted by Evan Rohrbough