photo by eli hamannBy Amber Schadewald
A doe, a regular by the Stone Arch Bridge, eats some apples near Darrell Ayers.
The Deer Man
Though he may not be a fairytale princess, Darrell Ayers is a Minneapolis version of the classic Snow White character. A kind voice and an open hand, Ayers has animal friends of all shapes and sizes.
“Food makes all the animals friendly,” he said, bending down to feed a peanut to the brave squirrel at his feet.
Almost five years ago, Ayers spotted a unique orange-colored goose and after bringing it fowlfriendly treats, has since been able to entice it over with a simple call. Commonly mooching for crumbs, squirrels and birds may be a bit easier to win over than most forest creatures, but it’s Ayers’ relationship with an animal a bit more his size that turns heads every day in Father Hennepin Bluffs Park — a young white-tailed deer.
Just near the Stone Arch Bridge, Ayers meets this particular doe every evening after work with a bag of apples, a pile of cracked corn and a bushel of wild grapes. The doe nibbles on her dinner with Ayers standing by, usually just an arm’s reach away. An obvious sense of trust between the two, the deer will even nab the fruit straight from his hand.
Fascinating city dwellers with its calm demeanor, this particular deer has caught the attention of many park visitors and their cameras as well. Take a walk any evening and like clockwork, the people friendly animal can be spotted within the park, grazing, as it unknowingly becomes the focus of cameras, dogs and children.
“She is very photogenic,” said Brian Carroll, another park regular who has taken a special liking to the deer, who like Ayers, can’t resist making daily visits. “Hundreds of people have seen her and it makes their day.”
Carroll once overheard someone thank the deer for the good “energy.”
“It’s an amazing shared experience. People come into the park and they’re in a thousand different worlds,” he said. “And then they see the deer, and the public and nature come together.”
Ayers’ interaction with the deer started in the summer of 2007, when she was still a fawn and in the company of her mother and sibling. After discovering their living space just outside the St. Anthony Falls Lab in the Xcel Energy Water Power Park, Ayers began bringing down food for the family. In his opinion, the deer seemed somewhat trapped. The river on one side, a fence on the other, the animals was in a protected, yet very limited area.
“We [humans] keep taking away their natural habitat, meaning [deer] don’t have what they need to live,” he said. “So we should help out.”
Ayers continued to feed the three deer until November when they simply disappeared; first the mother and one fawn, followed two weeks later by the second fawn. Ayers suspects the bulldozers and construction of the outdoor stream lab forced them to find a new home. It wasn’t until the following summer he spotted the current deer now living in Father Hennepin.
Both Ayers and Carroll agree the urban park isn’t the best habitat for the animal, noting that she is once again, “stuck geographically” between roads, businesses and a river. Nicole Wallace, a member of the wildlife staff at Wildlife Rescue and Rehabilitation says she’s not surprised by its chosen home.
“Deer are very urban animals,” she said, noting that as long as there is some kind of fragmented forest, they can survive. “Deer live around people all the time.” Wallace says the possibility of relocating the deer is out of the question. Transporting deer is far too stressful for their bodies and most attempts end with the animal battering itself or even dying.
Beyond location, Carroll’s main concern is the deer’s health; specifically a swollen front knee and the possibility of an injured, now healing, back leg. These possible injuries are what drove both him and Ayers to contact the Department of Natural Resources, asking for a little help.
“My interest is not to feed the deer, but to give it a head start for winter, to make sure it’s in good shape,” Carroll said. He envisions providing the animal with some sort of supplements or vitamins to help it heal and then on be able to take care of itself. Ayers on the other hand, just wishes the DNR would put up a feeder in the park.
“If we had an auto feeder, I wouldn’t have to come down everyday,” he said, key word being “have.” His commitment to the deer is relentless; his only concern is cold winter weather. Wallace agrees the deer’s health can rebound with a combination of time and a little human help.
“A lot of deer can heal and rejoin nature with the support of a feed station,” she says.
Bryan Lueth, the DNR’s North Metro Area Wildlife Manager, says there’s no possibility of a feeder.
“We don’t feed deer at all,” he said. “She’s already survived one winter on her own. How much do we want to intervene? Is feeding wild animals a great idea?”
When asked this question, Ayers simply shrugs. “She can leave whenever she wants,” he says. “And yes, she can survive if we didn’t help.”
While the DNR may not offer assistance, Ayers’ and Carroll’s care for the animal will continue. Brad Johnson, chief of Park Police in the area, says as long as there are no complaints about the deer, the department will not get involved. The park does not have any rules or laws about feeding the animal.
“I’ll just have to invest in a warmer hat,” Carroll joked. He and Ayers are currently trying to figure out a rotating feed plan.
Calm and gentle, this special deer has a host of friends who make visits and she has even earned the nickname of “Belle” by Don, a local homeless man who would spend hours with her in the park. An unusual pair of friends, there’s no denying the bond between Ayers and Belle, and even as he walks to his car, she follows.
“Hey there,” he said, turning around. “See ya tomorrow.”
