I've known these men since childhood. And now since we are of a "certain age" our conversation can often drift towards our various aches and pains. To be honest, the three of us are in pretty good shape. Sure Savage and I both have glaucoma and Unki H. has some injuries from his many years as a prison guard in the crazy house, but all in all we don't have much to bitch about. One of my complaints is having a butt so skinny that hours on end in a tree stand causes it to flatten out like a leaky tire burning rubber. And for some unknown reason my right leg has gone into a crack of dawn spasm that you can set your watch by. This should work to my favor, rousting me from my golden slumbers, and getting me into a tree before dawn. But, in fact, I fight it and burrow deeper into the covers.
So, this morning I sit in my ratty robe blogging, instead of deer hunting. But yesterday i did get up. I had a four pointer under my stand and a big doe out in the field. Eventually he ran off the doe in a desperate attempt to get a little. She wasn't having it. It would be like a pimply faced teenager humping Heidi Klum's long leg. "Leave the runway!" This little exchange told me that the rut is starting to heat up.
Now Savage Lynch's DEER REPORT: I saw a big racked buck crossing the road down by the Thompsonville post office at 10 am and another golf buddy saw a monster on Goodwill rd. in Montgomery, heading for the high School. Otherwise it's been quiet. Go Yankees!
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