The roe deer had become muchly entangled in a bit of old electric fencing, which had wrapped into a mighty tangle around its horns. I fetched Maggie, the owner of the field, and she lent me some wire cutters and stood on the remains of the electric fence to try to prevent the deer thrashing around too much while I cut the fence off the deer.   The deer was not happy about this procedure, and thrashed wildly and made a terrifying roaring noise, but in the end, we got the fence off, and the deer ran away, so I'm guessing it was more or less OK.    It had a couple of visible wounds, but nothing major.

 I got soaked, because it was hailing and the grass was wet.  And I had to haul the dogs off the deer when we found it.  Fortunately, Rosie is a bit scared of deer and Brythen has no idea how to hunt (seriously, he stood next to the struggling deer jumping up and down and yapping like a puppy: his best effort was to grab its ear), so I was able to haul them off relatively easily and attach them to a tree while I sorted the deer out.  I was worried, to start with, that they had driven it into the fence, as they both shot off when they first saw it, but given how enmeshed it was when I got there, which was only seconds after the dogs, I don't honestly think it was them, I think it must have been caught already.

Electric fencing is phenomenally tough stuff!  Both secateurs and wirecutters struggled with it.   The deer had cut itself, and the blood was over my hands, and somehow I cut my hands too although I'm not sure how I did it.   I hope roe deer don't carry any nasty diseases.  I've just rung my doctor in the hope that she will say 'no, roe deer are the most sterile of all animals'. Fingers crossed.

I should do some work now.  Perhaps when I've stopped quivering.