Oh, deer! Oh, deer! It’s that time of year!

Juggling eggs and oranges is a breeze compared to juggling bucks and does during the rutting season! The bucks not only have to be separated from the does, but have to be separated from one another. And, until their antlers are shed or removed, they have to be securely penned so they won’t pose a threat to humans. When the old testosterone starts coursing through their blood, they’d nail me to a wall with their dagger-sharp headgear as quickly as they would a stranger.

During the coming weeks you’ll be introduced — by print — to our resident deer, and the first to take a bow is a magnificent buck by the name of (what else?) Bucko.

Bucko was the frailest fawn ever brought to the shelter. He was barely three days old when he was picked up from a tarred road where he was trying to get warm. His ears had chilled and curled back like the petals on a lily. His legs were rubbery and sprawled in grostesque positions. There was a clicking sound in his chest and his heart could be heard beating from across a room. Noting his pathetic condition and fearing he was too young to have gotten sufficient colostrum from his mother’s milk, I fed him a formula laced with electrolytes and waited for him to go sour and die.

Today, three years later, he’s the most majestic buck ever to grace the premises. He weighed in at 354 during the rut last year and is over the 350 mark again this year. He measures 45 inches from his hips to his hooves and is as solid as the trunk of an oak tree. He sported 12 points on his first rack of antlers. The second year, he had only nine points, but the rack was massive. This year, he had 11 points, but has broken off two while trying to pry the 2-by-4s from his pen.

Like most newborns, fawns require assistance eliminating during those first crucial weeks, otherwise they can die from blockage or uremic poisoning. I had been “assisting” Petals (the name given the fawn because of the lily-petal-shaped ears) for seven weeks when I made the jolting discovery Petals was a Bucko!

It was 10 months later that I made the second colossal boo-boo regarding the buck. Believing a male had to be 2 years old to father fawns, I allowed him to run with the does his first fall and winter. Bucko not only fraternized, he “paternized!” He and Josie — a 7-year-old doe — had a real fling thing and by May, she became perturblingly plump. By July she looked as though she was going to explode and we became worried about her. Then, on July 31, she did explode — producing three bucks and a doe! The largest buck was stillborn, but Jake, Jock and Jenny were hale and hearty.

Too late, a biologist informed me a buck can father fawns at six months of age “if he’s psyched up enough.” Bucko was “psyched up!” He also was full of Charger horse feed which the biologists and veterinarians credit for the weight, sleek pelts, large antler growth and fine health of the deer. It also makes men out of boys.

Dusty, at only 4-and-a-half months and still nursing from the doe, is intent on “making out” with the females. When his romantic overtures fail to impress them, he lowers his head and prods them with his button antlers as he pretends to be a belligerent buck in rut. He’s as psyched up as Bucko was, but at only 4-and-a-half months, is it possible he could … ?

Girls, keep your men away from Charger horse feed!