I have a little Monday morning short story. As hunting season is approaching I am reminded of the deer with special needs I killed several years ago. I know theres a few people who dont believe in hunting but I am a sportsman. I always fire at least one warning shot to give the deer a fair chance. In the case of the deer with special needs I fired two because after the first one I knew he was special. Me and my buddy were just riding around looking for a doe to shoot. We go by this field and there were 5 or 6 standing out there.So we drove down the road a ways to turn around. Low and behold there was a buck in a field eating.I looked like I was parachuting in the jungles of Vietnam as I rolled out of the still moving truck. I must of rolled 20 times before I finally hit the ditch. I jumped up and got him in my scope and pulled the trigger. He kept right on eating. So I squeezed another one off,he never flinched,kept right on eating. By this time I noticed out of the corner of my eye my buddy had stopped the truck and was fixing to squeeze one off. Like any good hunting buddy would do,I quickly fired one more time. This time he failed in his tracks. I was about to panic after them first two shots. I thought it was one of them mechanical deer. Anyways we load him up and get him back to the house. We hang him up so we could take his pants off. We looked that deer up and down trying to see where I hit him. No blood no bullet holes nothing. I guess my third shot got close enough to give him a heart attack.
Posted on: Mon, 25 Aug 2014 09:43:13 +0000
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