LITTLE PINK .22

   After I shot that 4 pointer down at Bird's new annex, I realized it was the best spot to hunt if I wanted to get a doe or maybe even see the big 8. The crop of acorns had the deer moving and feeding all day long. From the high stand I could see bodies moving through the woods, scratching big oak leaf patches in the snow. Crows swooped and hollered coming and going on the gut pile from the buck and at one point chased a big eagle over the ridge. Baby squirrels chased each other around trees and it was cold.....really cold.

    On Sunday night supermodel Marianna Louise and boyfriend Horst came up to Slick's for dinner. Shewho, Teehoo and I joined them. I cooked up some venison and ML made her delicious beet soup. Shewho had way too much fun, so she and Teehoo ended up sleeping up in my nest, while I got the cold futon in my "guest room".  Anything for the little one. 

   Monday morning I slept in. I didn't get down to Bird's until 10 am. I decided to still hunt into the stand. As soon as I peeked over the gully, at the base of the ladder, I saw the hillside was littered with deer. There was a group of big does, trailed by a spike coming my way. I hugged the tree, pulled the gun up, picked out the lead doe and squeezed the trigger. They scattered like quail. It took a while (as usual) to find the dead deer. At least this time i had good blood. I gutted her and got back in the stand and hunted until 2pm, when I drug the big doe out. I'm getting way too old for this.

     Yesterday, being the last day, I was in the stand before dawn. I resolved  only to shoot a big buck. By 10 am I was so cold I had to take a break. Being a little behind on my Xmas shopping I drove to Gander Mountain to shop for Teehoo. This is my first Xmas with her. What to get a 14 year old city girl? "Can I help you?" the salesman asked at the gun counter. "I'm looking for a pink .22" I said. He pointed to a rack with 2 sweet Ruger semiautos in light pink. Santa was happy. As I began the ATF paper work he asked for my driver's license. Before I could lift the pen he said he needed something with my actual address. All my ID had my PO box. Christ, I only got an address a few years ago. I live in the sticks. 

    Well, let me tell you, don't try to buy a gun without this physical address ID. As I pulled crap from my wallet, looking for anything with my street # on it, the salesmen gathered and my voice rose. "THIS IS BULLSHIT!" I stated flatly. Everything from hunting license to pistol permit had my PO box. "How would the ATF get a hold of you?" the surly manager reasoned. "How about putting my street address on the form?" I debated. I could be lying. They all knew I was up to something no good with my girly .22. Eventually, surrounded by Gander employees and well meaning customers, ready to jump on me if need be, I gave up. "You could go to the DMV and get a form." one guy suggested. That's just how I wanted to spend the last day of hunting season. Frustrated, pissed and trying to calm down, I went back in the woods. How the hell will I make it until turkey season?