I was hammering the throttle of my John Deere across our second-acre field when I spotted my then six-year-old, Brielle, waving her hands wildly at me. I stopped, idled down, and waved her over to the mower.
“Can I ride with you?”
“Sure. Hold on.”
We took off. I let her drive down the hill. And then, there it was.
A huge doe leapt across our neighbour’s ga…