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Back when we raised two fawns, SFAIK there was no permit system. The deal was that the deer could not be restrained. Ours were free to come and go as they wished, over several hundred acres and a residential subdivision.
Murgatroyd wandered through unfinished houses, helped the workmen eat their sandwiches, danced on top of cars (dusty hoofprints as proof) and then returned to the house in the evening.
Deer like cookie crumbs, the gravy from Big Brother stew, and honeysuckle blossoms. They will attack a garden hose, trying to kill the snake. They do not object to scotch and water--and neither does a Polish game cock.
Papillon went back to the woods. Murgatroyd stayed, figuring he had a good thing going. He socialized well with a palomino gelding, a goat, a goose, two cats and the shepherd.
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