There is nothing quite so relaxed as a doe, curled up on a patch of grass, not even chewing cud, just sitting there ... happy, as perhaps only an animal like a deer can be. (An animal unaware that that come deep winter, 200 of their number in Helena will get the bolt into the brain.)
Two does graced my back yard this afternoon, each on the west side of my slim concrete back yard sidewalk, sitting almost perfectly still for hours, bending down the grass, a bed they assume is their birthright. Who knows what thoughts grazed their minds, thoughts beyond "My belly is full," and "Keep an eye out for trouble." I'd like to think they were really feeling happy, although I doubt it. I think we have to feel it for them.