Deer trapping is game management meets rodeo

By Roger Phillips, Idaho Fish and Game public information specialist The growing intensity of the whup, whup, whup of rotor blades spikes our anticipation and adrenaline. Mule deer sprint away from a helicopter that's like an airborne border collie herding them into tall nets strung across the rolling sagebrush hills north of Emmett. As deer hit the nets propped up by tall sticks, the sticks fall away, the mesh drops and the deer become entangled. That's the cue for Fish and Game crews and volunteers to rush from their hiding places and carefully untangle and control the thrashing animals. Deer aren't thrilled by this close encounter of the strange, human kind, and they're quick with strong, sharp kicks and Houdini-like escape maneuvers. Although mule deer does and fawns are lighter than most people realize Â- weighing around 80 to 120 pounds - they fight above their weight class. They aren't highly vocal animals, but they're not shy about bawling their displeasure, which makes the melee exciting and unpredictable. It's biology meets rodeo until Fish and Game employees and volunteers hold the deer to the ground and calm them by placing blindfolds over their eyes. There's also a wide gap between watching deer trapping through a camera lens and being in the scrum, as I found out when a doe hit the net near me and others were busy tending other animals. I had seen the process numerous times, and been coached on the technique. After the deer is on the ground, it's held by lying next to it and wrapping a leg around its hind legs, which are hopefully extended because that slows their kicking. One arm is wrapped around the deer's chest and both front legs are tightly held to its chest. But a deer is too strong for one hand, so you're lying in the snow, bear-hugging the deer and trying to keep both of its rear legs firmly held with one of your own. Fortunately, I had help, otherwise I would have quickly gone from wannabe steer wrestler to sad rodeo clown. The doe calmed long enough for me to relax before letting go with several kicks to remind me she wasn't crying uncle any time soon. It was intense for a novice like me, especially considering it's an animal I normally encounter from a safe, comfortable distance. I felt its thumping heart and the warmth of its coarse, gray fur. I felt its strength build like a steam engine about to explode as it tried to rid itself of the strange creatures that had temporarily (unknown to the doe at the time) abducted it. Radio collaring is a vital part of game management. Fish and Game biologists monitor the radio-collared deer through winter and into early spring to see how they fare. They know some will die from predators, winter kill, accidents and other things, and how many varies from year to year. It's important to know how many survive because winter is their most vulnerable time, especially for fawns, and they're the next generation that determines whether the herd remains healthy and abundant. Trapping involves more than putting radio collars on deer. Each doe is measured around her chest and between her hoof and knee to gauge body condition. Blood is drawn to check for pregnancy and disease, and numbered plastic tags are attached to ears. Fawns are spared the blood letting, but are picked up and weighed during the handling process. Fawn weight entering winter is a reflection of nutrition and heavy fawns are more likely to survive. After all weights and measurements were taken and the collar secured, it was time to release the deer. Some leap away like a sprinter out of the gates, others buck and kick like a National Finals Rodeo bronco, and others casually pogo away in that unique mule deer gait. Some even stop and look back. Why look back? Who knows? But it was easy to let my imagination run wild. Maybe a deer is wondering what's the strange collar around its neck? Maybe it's looking back to let me know who really won that bout. Or maybe it's trying to figure out how it survived what moments ago seemed like a life-or-death struggle? Only the deer know, and they don't say. They just dissolve into the sagebrush, and except for a new necklace and set of earrings, they are indistinguishable from every other deer in the herd. But they will provide important information to Fish and Game biologists, who will monitor their progress and work to ensure healthy and abundant herds now and in the future.