By brother initiate Peter Griffiths, South Africa
(Originally in English)

In my family's back garden, we have a feeder hanging in a place where birds can come to eat the grain and seeds that we provide for them.

Sometimes, there are so many birds trying to feed at the same time that the feeder almost collapses, and many more birds wait in line for their turn. We love to watch them enjoying the food, but often when we walk outside the birds are frightened us and fly away. This saddens me, and I wish I could tell them that it is safe for them to stay and eat.

When I was six years old, my sister, Jennifer, taught me to ride a horse and during the school holidays, I used to ride around the family farm with her and my two brothers, Grahame and Richard. Of course, I fell off my horse (whose name was "Blue Peter") many times, but I always jumped back into the saddle so as not to become afraid of riding or falling.

One day, the four of us were riding through the bush accompanied by our three dogs, Curly, Jock, and Sally. Suddenly, the dogs stopped near some long grass and began to bark excitedly. We halted our horses and dismounted to look at what they had found - a tiny baby deer! It was not more than a few hours old and could barely stand. Fortunately, the dogs were kind hearted and did not hurt the poor little buck. (In Africa, we usually call a deer a "buck," which is the word for a male deer.) Jen, my sister, cradled it in her arms as my brothers and I began to search for the mother, knowing that she would not have abandoned her offspring.

Sadly, we found the mother (a duiker, or small African deer) lying dead nearby. She had been caught in a wire snare. This is a cruel form of trap made from a wire noose, which some people use to catch game (wild animals). Jock was once caught in such a snare and could easily have been killed (another story!) We named the little buck "Bambi," after the famous Walt Disney character, and Jennifer fed it from a baby's bottle. (See photo, "Bambi 1")

As he grew bigger, Bambi learned to eat his natural food from the bush so that he would not be dependent on us to feed him. However, his favorite food was rose petals from my mother's rose garden! My mother had more than a hundred beautiful rose bushes and we had to build a fence around them to keep Bambi away, otherwise he would have eaten every bloom. Nevertheless, he often managed to slip through the fence and had to be carried out of the rose garden.

When he was fully grown, with proud little horns on his head, Bambi would go off into the bush for a few days at a time. Then he would reappear at the bottom of our garden, and when my mother called "Bambi!" in her high, sing-song voice, the buck would come running up to her. Then the dogs would all come to say hello, wagging their tails and sniffing at Bambi's coat to catch the scent of where he had been. After a while, Bambi and the dogs would play a game of "Catch me if you can!" Bambi would sprint away into the garden and the dogs would race after him, but he was so swift that they could seldom catch him. They would spend half an hour or more running through the garden. Sometimes, Bambi would stop so suddenly that the dogs would go tumbling past him, and then he would dart off in the opposite direction. They really enjoyed this game. After an hour or so, and after helping himself to a few rose petals as a treat, Bambi would come up to my mother and after she had stroked him for a while, he would run off into the bush.

As time went by, Bambi came less often and we used to worry that he might have been shot by one of the neighboring farmers . One day, my mother saw Bambi at the bottom of the garden and called to him, but he just stood there - and beside him stood a young female! Bambi had found a mate! My mother kept calling but after a few minutes, Bambi and his lovely partner ran away, and for nearly two years my mother's roses grew unmolested.

Then, one day my mother was working in the garden when she looked up and saw a beautiful buck standing at the bottom of the garden. "Bambi!" she called, and the buck came running up to her. It stood still while my mother stroked and fondled it, and it allowed the dogs to sniff its coat. (See photo, "Bambi 2".) The buck trembled a little at first when the dogs wanted to play, but then suddenly raced away and the game was on! They ran all over the garden, having a wonderful time, until the dogs were exhausted. Then the buck ran to my mother and after she had stroked it for a few minutes, it trotted away into the bush. Thus began another series of visits from "Bambi." Every week for a few months thereafter my mother would see the familiar figure at the bottom of the garden and call out "Bambi!" When the dogs heard her, they would come running to meet and play with their friend.

Then a strange thing happened. Jennifer, my sister, had been away at college but she happened to be at home one morning when "Bambi" arrived for another visit. Jen stood with my mother, watching the buck playing with the dogs, until the game was over. When it came to my mother for its farewell stroking, my sister knelt to examine it, using the skills gained from her college training in animal husbandry. She had already noticed that the buck had no horns, and a quick inspection confirmed that it was a young female! Jen looked at the buck's teeth and discovered that it was less than two years old. It certainly was not our original "Bambi," who was a male with proud horns and who would have been at least five years old by then.

In fact, we never saw Bambi again. Instead, we enjoyed visits from his beautiful daughter for several months. Well, we assume it was his daughter. Why else would a young deer suddenly come into our lives without any fear, not even of the dogs - a natural enemy? Somehow, we thought, Bambi must have told his child that it could trust us not to harm it. How wonderful it would be if human beings could live this way, in harmony with all the creatures on the planet!