A most touching animal event took place in the lot in front of my house recently.

The tall grass hay had been mowed that morning and was curing in the wind and sun. Around mid-afternoon, I glanced out and saw a flock of six or more vultures gathered and pecking at prey. Soon a red-tailed hawk joined them.
I watched them, off and on, and began to wonder what could be large enough to have kept them there that long. A field mouse or even a rabbit would have been devoured quickly.
Curiosity led me to
find out.
The vultures feared me not, but they moved away enough for me to see the white-spotted hide and bones of a baby deer. Any other animal would have fled from the tractor and mower noise, but he was too young to know about those dangers. No doubt his mother had bedded him there while she ran an errand unfortunately at the wrong time, and his instincts kept him still and unseen by the driver of the tractor.
Saddened, but accepting nature’s world, I returned to the house. The vultures came back and continued their work.
In late afternoon, I saw that the mother deer had entered the picture. She stood away from the activity, sniffing the air. A few steps at a time, she quietly moved in, causing the vultures gradually to give her space. When she got close enough to see the remains, she stared, seemingly to take it all in.
After a rather long moment of viewing, she turned to the circle of vultures. One at a time, she pursued them until they took flight. If they circled and came back, she went after them again until all had disappeared.
It was obvious that she was prepared to win, no matter how long it took.
She stood there in solitude, looking at the fateful spot, trying to understand. I mourned with her.
Finally, she turned, and as if leaving, moved away. She headed for the woods, but stopped twice, turned fully and looked back, checking to be sure all was still quiet. The last dash appeared to be an act of resignation, accepting this hurt of nature. Her white tail disappeared beyond the brush and trees as she went forward to face the next season and its challenges.
The next afternoon, I happened to see the mother deer cross the empty lot, resolutely without stopping, pretending not to be checking the scene.