Two fawns were rescued along Utah’s Wasatch Front and brought to Antelope Island as rehab
deer at the Fielding Garr Ranch in 1999. Unlike the male fawn, whose whereabouts are
unknown, the female found a home at the ranch and was given the name Whisper. The origin of
her name is unknown.

Whisper was a mule deer, both common and native to Utah, but there was nothing common
about her.

She loved humans.

She also trusted them enough that, at one time, she jumped into the seat of an officer’s patrol car
for a ride around the island. And she sat shotgun.
Whisper greeted everyone that visited the Fielding Garr Ranch. Though she enjoyed the
company of tourists, she took a particular interest in children with disabilities, often nosing their
faces and necks.

Larry Hambleton, a volunteer on the island and member of the Trail Patrol, was another person
that Whisper took a special interest in.

Every Sunday, Hambleton couldn’t wait to reach the island and enjoy Whisper’s company.
“It was kinda a weekend romance kinda thing,” Hambleton said with a smile during an interview
at the ranch.

Hambleton has been a volunteer on Antelope Island for the past 25 years and looked back on his
time with Whisper with nostalgia.

As he recalled, many tourists would watch the special friendship that Hambleton and Whisper
shared and often snapped pictures.

On one particular occasion, Hambleton was exhausted after going on a long run along the
southern part of the island. Upon arriving back at the ranch, Hambleton lay on the grass only to
find, a few minutes later, that a group of people were watching and taking pictures in his
direction. That’s when he realized Whisper lay beside him, head resting on his chest as she
joined him in a nap.

Whisper, without fail, tagged along on hikes that Hambleton took around Century and explored
the north and south end of the island. But she always sought the protection of the Fielding Garr
Ranch. In particular, she sought the dry space under the overhang of the sheep shearing station
where she would sleep, dimly lit by sunlight peeking through the cracks in the barn.

When people saw Whisper, some would get scared as she followed Hambleton around the ranch
and while he spoke with visitors. For some, the sight was just too unfamiliar.

Weekend Romance

Hambleton described how he would shake his keys to get Whispers’ attention, and she would
come up to him. He would proceed to shake them and ask if she wanted a treat. Bouncing up and
down, her tail would wag behind her as if to answer his question. She would never allow him to
feed her from his hand, but she would dive into the oats as soon as he placed the bowl on the
ground.

On occasion, while Hambleton spoke to island visitors, Whisper would hear his voice, come up
behind him and poke her head through the space between his arm and side until her ears flopped
out in front of him.

“I would go behind the blacksmith shop and I’d grab the limbs and pull them down and she
would take the leaves and bite down and sweep them off,” Hambleton said. “If she couldn’t get
to them, she would get up on my shoulders to get higher.”

Much to the dismay of tourists, Whisper would snack on the rubber on cars and windshield
wipers. The deer also had a taste for any paperwork or calendars she would find in the Fielding
Garr Office. She would eat anything she could find in the small space where the State
Department of Natural Resources (DNR) employees worked, including the ranch chicken feed
kept in the windowsill of the office, placing her hooves up on the counter and pulling herself up
to reach the grainy treat.

“What I thought was really crazy was, whenever she would come up to me, she would bend her
head down and I would bend my head down, whenever we would meet for all these years and we
would bump the head twice,” Hambleton said. “I don’t know what that was. I’m thinking to
myself, you know, what is this all about, and she’s probably thinking, what does this old guy do
this for? I guess it was kinda a handshake.” Hambleton shrugged with a smile as he remembered.

Hambleton also remembered how well her eyesight was. Whisper would stop, go still and stare
out at the landscape. All Hambleton had to do was look between her ears in the center and far off
in the distance he would see the small shape of a coyote watching.

However, Whisper didn’t just gain the attention of people on the island.

A large buck started coming down to the ranch every January and February to enjoy the
company of the female deer.

Hambleton recalled cutting an apple in half when the muscular animal jumped over fence and
cautiously approached, eyeing the fruit. Hambleton held his arm out as far as he could, offering it
to the animal. The bucks’ split lip reached out until it touched the apple, pulling it into its mouth.
He never let Hambleton touch him, but Whispers’ mate would make sure to show Hambleton
who was in charge.

Hambleton recalls a time when the Buck nudged him with its horn. It is uncertain what the
animal meant by it, but Hambleton had his own interpretation: “To let me know, I could kill you
if I wanted too.”

The male deer only allowed Hambleton to go near him if Whisper was nearby.

Whisper gave birth to twins, which she raised around the ranch. Unfortunately, due to her
protective nature and deep ties to the ranch, she became unsafe around people when she had
babies.

As a result, management on Antelope Island decided – for the safety of the public – that she
should be spayed. Her descendants continue to roam the island.

Whispers’ curiosity and trust for humans would be her downfall when, one day, she stood behind
a tourist’s car. According to Hambleton, no one knows exactly what happened other than
someone ran over her leg, breaking it.

Scared, she fled to the ranch’s bunkhouse to get away from the coyotes that always seemed to be
watching, a place she often used to hide.

Knowing she would not make it with a broken leg with the coyotes always on the lookout for
weakened animals, she was shot outside that bunkhouse in 2007.

As Hambleton described her, Whisper wasn’t just a sociable deer but a friend and a lesson. She
was a reminder that friendship can come in any size, shape or form.

For Hambleton, Whisper taught him to see people for what rests in their souls and not for what is
on the outside.

“If she was still here today, I would still come down every Sunday to be with her,” he said. No
matter how long he was out here, no matter how many times he saw Whisper, the excitement
was the same.

“It did change my life for the better,” he said.