Our relationship began early spring of 2009.  She appeared at the edge of my meadow one morning and seemed to be watching me hang maple buckets to catch sap. And then a few weeks later I saw her again in back of the barn: Standing.Watching. One foot nervously stomping. But she did not flee. By the middle of spring I knew "Hey, Girl!" quite well by her distinct facial coloration and from time to time  in summer I would notice her in the dogwood thickets along my woodland path.  I would glance her direction as I passed and she would watch.  Autum came and she was gone-- for awhile. But with winter's arrival  her boldness increased and she would crane her neck high to knock a few morsels of seed off the birdfeeder.(I did not tell her she was violating the no feeding ban on deer from the MDNRE). And then in spring 2010 Hey Girl became a regular visitor. When I sat outside to read in early morning and sip on coffee she would appear at the edge of the meadow near the day lilies and just watch. Time passed: She keeps her twin fawns down in the tall grasses but from time to time I get a glimpse of their ears as they sneak peeks at mom's human associate as I voice quietly, "Hey Girl!"  But then, the morning after the  powerful wind storm that raked Oakland County a few days ago everything changed. She appeared again next to my barn and began to munch on downed black walnut leaves. And with her was a buck. Strangely he seemed to follow her lead and after about ten minutes he too just stared at me acting as if he knew me well. The sudden facial licking from Hey Girl to the buck surprised me and I toss about thoughts that perhaps he is not an off season breeding companion, but an offspring from last year I never saw before her trust for me grew. But now I worry, for trust between wildlife and humans can be deadly for wildlife. Does Hey Girl and her buck trust all humans or just me? And I wonder if perhaps the kindest thing I can do is throw a stone to teach them fear?