WISHING YOU A NEGATIVE NEW YEAR

  During the holiday break for muzzleloader season I got sick. Did I have Covid? It's anybody's guess. I was dead tired, achy, and had the shits. Is that the virus? I can still smell the coffee, breathe and don't feel too bad. Other than my inability to shoot even a doe this late in the season I feel OK. Covid or not I'm staying away from people.

    When the season reopened the day after Xmas I hit the woods for one final push after the initial drives were unsuccessful for me. On my own I had a couple of opportunities to shoot does but found it difficult to pull the trigger with a dink batting its eye lashes at me while momma munched grass. Still, I was determined to keep at it until the end. Both Savage and Bird were willing to come back up to my woods and drive specifically to get a deer in front of my gun. Between feeling the "vids" and Savage's bum leg I resisted. But when New Year's Eve morning was the fourth day in a row of socked in fog, warm temps and no deer, I relented. I had to admit I needed some help.

    So around noon on New Year's Eve Bird and Savage arrived. I would drive the "Covid truck" between spots and we would stay outside, safe from each other's germs. By the time the first drive was over I still had not seen a deer. The curse seemed to be holding. The next drive was the cemetery. This drive is usually a producer and one of us was sure to see deer. The problem being that I was resisting a "pity deer," so Savage and Bird were holding their fire unless it was a big buck. I climbed in the stand and the drivers radioed that the push was commencing. Ten minutes later I saw deer running. 1, 2, ,3......6, 8....I lost track. They were coming so fast I couldn't even look for horns. I bleated (for non-deer hunters a loud bleat - like a sheep - will stop a running deer in its tracks) stopping a large doe, swung the gun and fired......cracking my nose and brow with the scope. First blood of the season was my own.

   By the time Bird was in front me asking where he should look for blood or a body, I was convinced I had missed. I climbed down out of the stand and the three of us looked for blood (not mine) through a tangle of briars and deadfalls. I found what I thought was white belly hair and groaned that I had shot under her. The forensic specialist Savage examined the hair and was not so sure it was belly. "Look here," he pointed out, "this is brown." It looked white to me. I wasn't convinced......when all of a sudden Bird shouted that he had found blood..... where I hadn't walked. After about an half hour's search we found the dead doe. I found the hair. Bird found the blood. Savage found the deer. I had hit her perfectly, behind the front shoulder and still she had run 100 yards and left scarcely a drop of blood. Without Bird and Savage along I would have thought I missed, given up the search and lost that beautiful doe. Thanks all around.

    That night Shewho and I celebrated not only shooting that deer but making it through another year in one piece, albeit with two black eyes and a bloody nose for me. We ate, drank and imbibed some edibles. At about 11:45 pm, bored with TV we went off to bed. Happy as clams and too high to care, we suddenly remembered we didn't know if it was the New Year yet. "Google, what time is it?" Shewho yelled. "Midnight." came the response. Timing is everything. 2021 was over. Yipee!!!! 

     The next morning we both tested ourselves for Covid-19. Neg. all around. Phew. A good way to start the new year. Here's wishing all my family, friends, congregation and readers of HWS a healthy, happy, and negative New Year! "Google, what time is it?" Later than you think. ENJOY!