All this fawning for a deer

On Saturday morning, the big, squishy heart of tough-guy cop Wayne Muller was revealed. There he was on the front page of this newspaper nuzzling -- yes, nuzzling -- a baby deer he'd befriended in the wilds of downtown Raleigh.

Wouldn't you know? Saturday was also the morning of the annual Ray Price Harley Davidson Toys for Tots ride and veterans remembrance in downtown Raleigh.

Muller, a longtime member of the Blue Knights law enforcement motorcycle club, knew he was in for some guff.

His biker buddies did not disappoint.

No sooner had he walked in the door at Ray Price than the catcalls began.

"Bucky's Daddy!" cried one, referring to Muller's nickname for the fawn, and himself.

"What were you doing in the woods with that deer, Muller?" called another.

Then came a resounding chorus of animal noises.

Muller took it all in stride.

Funny, though, as Muller made his way through the crowd, some of the biggest wiseacres were the same guys to pull Muller aside and ask, "Ya think I could go over and pet Bucky too?"

You see, despite the jokes, Muller's special relationship with this deer he encountered in a patch of urban woods touched people.

In turn, people's concerns about Bucky touched Muller.

The retired Raleigh cop, now working for the State Capitol Police, has grown fiercely protective of Bucky since first spying him, always alone, during his regular rounds.

He and a small group of fellow officers are able to rub Bucky's head, pat his flank and fluff his tail. The deer even follows them back to a parking lot when they get ready to leave.

The officers are terrified the animal will end up one of the casualties they see on nearby roads.

Bucky's exact location, by the way, remains a state secret. Lotta nutballs out there, you know.

But now, Muller has sketched out a plan to move the deer once hunting season is over.

Working with his vet, Dr. Jim Myers in Wendell, Muller plans to sedate Bucky on Jan. 3 or Jan. 4 -- after the hunters have put away their guns.

Well over a dozen readers e-mailed me offering a home to Bucky on protected acreage from Wake Forest to Jordan Lake.

People have contacted Muller as well.

Muller hasn't decided on the best fit for Bucky.

He knows it'll be someplace within an hour's drive of Raleigh. The vet told him that drugging the animal sufficiently to transport him to, say, the mountains, would be risky.

Muller likes the idea of Bucky being close to home, anyway.

The tough-talking cop still gets choked up thinking about saying goodbye to Bucky.

But he also understands there is a limit to his ability to protect the animal.

By next fall, Bucky will be an adolescent, roaming to find a mate.

He could easily clear a fence and wander into hunting lands. And, of course, he could end up one of the more than 15,000 deer hit and killed by vehicles every year in this state.

All Muller can do is move his deer friend, safely, to a better location. And pray.

"From then on," Muller said, "it's in God's hands."