Inside their one-storey, metal-roofed, plywood shack on Vancouver Island's rugged west coast, Janet Schwartz and her domesticated deer, Bimbo, are returning to their normal lives.Against the background noise of a buzzing generator, professional wrestlers jostle across the screen of a satellite TV as Bimbo snatches and then gobbles down a cigarette from the lips of a couch-bound, 70-year-old border named Mike Miller.The law — represented by men and women dressed in black uniforms and carrying guns — is no longer threatening to forcibly separate Schwartz and Bimbo, freeing the 10-year-old doe potentially to the fates of the surrounding rainforest and its hungry wolves and black bears.Once again, a sense of peace permeates this home that flies a faded and weathered Canadian flag from the corner of an outside wall."We love each other," said Schwartz who turned 70 on Saturday. "She'll come up to me and she'll kiss me right on the lips, like a man kisses a woman. She does the same thing. She kisses."For four days last week, Schwartz' life turned as rocky and pitted as the undulating logging road that connects her life to the outside world.Conservation officers had arrived at the property beneath snow-capped mountains and at the bottom of a remote valley near Ucluelet, B.C., with orders to release Bimbo from the thin tether the deer is attached to when outside, said Schwartz. Schwartz was told she wasn't allowed to touch Bimbo any more.