GO HOME LITTLE SPIKEY

  Every day I come out of the woods and make my phone calls. First I call Shewho to let her know I'm alive. I give her the run down on what I saw (or didn't see) and get the report from her relationship with Woody the partridge. Then I call Savage and Bird. It's our routine. Savage is tagged out. Bird and I are still hunting. Shewho doesn't hunt. She loves animals. This wild bird has adopted Shewho. At first she would call it - "Woooooodyyyyyy..." and the bird would come running. Now all she has to do is slam the door and Woody knows that his friend is outside. It's time for a little corn and a stroll around the property. If Shewho ignores Woody he gets under her feet and bats at her boots until she bends down and engages. Then the crazy little bird coos and chatters, jumps in her lap and when she goes back in the house he tries to bum rush the kitchen door. Lassie sticks her long nose out to block his passage and Monkey the cat skulks and plots an assassination. Woody has no fear. I mention all this because I'm beginning to have my own relationship with an animal in the woods.

   This season I've been hunting four shooters, with a specific eye towards Clocker, the ten point buck who bettered me in the tree stand at five yards with the bow. Targeting specific bucks is possible only if you hunt the same property day after day. It's been over two months of almost a seven day a week task to get on any of these four bucks. I haven't seen any of them since gun season started. This weekend is the last of gun. But what I have seen (way too many times) is a buck I call "Spikey." You get to know your deer and this little guy with  two straight four inch spike antlers is easy to spot. Every time I think it's a doe he turns his head and I recognize this teenager. He lives in the core area of Clocker. The other day I was creeping through the leaves, careful not the step on sticks when I looked up and there stood Spikey....twenty feet away! In another encounter he ran up behind me and stopped short of almost butting my back. He never spooks and when I wave he sticks up his tail and walks away, unperturbed. I'm waiting for him crawl in my lap like Woody and whisper in my ear......"Please don't kill us."

    But, until that happens I'm in the cemetery stand for an all day sit today. The second rut is kicking in and it's my best chance to get on Clocker. I hunted the spot last night and before I could get in the stand I saw two deer bust out of Clocker's bed. The first looked like a good buck. They were the only deer I saw until Spikey showed up. Last night I received an email from Ginger with a picture of an 8 point hanging from Bird's tractor. I waited for my phone call for the story. The phone never rang. Then this morning I got another email- "We had dinner plans. No time." WTF? What kind of brother prioritizes dinner over telling his fellow hunters about killing a nice buck. Savage cried himself to sleep. I'm sure Bird slept in so he won't read this until the sun is up and he's having coffee and looking at his buck. Where am I? Huddled in the cold, watching for any deer to feed across the cut. Wait......is that movement in the bed? Is that......? Then he raises his head and winks. Spikey. Some of us are still at it. I guess you'll read about it tomorrow if I score.