Sunday, October 27, 2013


 So far it's been a helluva season. It's not even Halloween and I have two on the ground. As anyone who knows me, or who follows this blog will tell you, this is atypical. And I'm not even hunting hard. In fact I haven't hunted one morning or gotten cold. I work on the shul and go out late afternoon. It's civilized hunting. The struggle of shooting the big 7 left me licking my wounds for a week. But on Thurs. I got back in the stand. I hunted above the bridge. One doe crashed through around 4 pm. Then nothing.
   On Friday I decided to hunt behind the house. I'd gotten permission and hung a stand late last season in a good spot. On the way in I jumped a nice buck, not 10 yards away. He ran maybe 20 yards and stopped, trying to scent me. I had the wind. I could just make out his heavy white antlers, turning slowly, catching the light, nose up. I froze. Finally he gave up and moved off. Then I saw a doe slink off in the other direction. I'd saved her an afternoon of sexual harassment. I never had a shot. Plus I had already filled my buck tag for bow. I could only legally shoot a doe, until gun season, when another buck tag kicks in. I settled into the stand.
    Around 5 pm I spotted a doe working it's way through some pines behind me. Then I saw two more. From my perspective there was one big one and two medium size ones. I slowly moved for the bow and stood up, as the small lead doe walked within range, to an open spot to my left. It was a perfect opportunity for a shot. She stopped. I drew and fired. The impact of the arrow knocked her off her feet for a split second. Then she got up, ran about 10 yards and dropped.

    My arrow was drenched in bright red blood and hair, a welcome change from the brown goo of my lousy gut shot. There would be no tracking job for Bonnie on this one. I could see the deer laying in the leaves. My elation of my clean kill shot was tempered when I walked up on her and realized just how small this deer was. I'd killed Bambi's little sister- early in the movie. She didn't have spots......but I'm sure they were dropped close by and not long ago. After gutting her I picked her up, put her in my pocket and walked home.
   It didn't take long to butcher this deer. I don't think I'll make it a practice, but there are many advantages to shooting a young deer. My back feels fine, and a hindquarter will fit on my hillbilly can smoker. After a little upgrade from my rusted out smoker, and some false starts, I pulled out a rich, glistening brown, warm shank of tender smoked venison veal. And it doesn't take up the whole fridge. My deer bow tags are filled. I guess I'm turkey and bear hunting until opening day.  


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