The Hissy Fit

Hunting in my family has always been a very competitive event. Of course, I have always had to be the adult one in the family. It has taken many forms but Paul has always been the master of the hissy fit. These take many forms but in hunting it is always something to behold. The first hunting hissy fit, I was ever around happened like this……
We were hunting out of Abbeville then and Dad had taken a nice buck off a power line stand and was finished for the season. The limit was one buck a season back then.
Paul was about 14 and hadn’t killed crap and the season was winding down. In a Dad’s eyes, desperate times call for desperate measures. My father had built a stand on the edge of the bottom, tucked away so he could hunt it when the time was right and no one had hunted it that year. He decided to give Paul the chance to shoot the deer he had been saving. That afternoon he grabbed the sulking boy, threw his rifle on his shoulder and headed for the woods. They located the stand, got Paul all fixed up and told him that he was going to go back toward the road and sit on the ground till dark and wait for Paul to shoot. He left and soon found a place to sit on the edge of a deep ravine. He laid his gun against the tree. You always want a gun with you in the woods but deer hunting was not on his mind. An hour later things had gotten quiet in the woods and he thought he heard footsteps. They were getting closer and closer but he could not locate them. Finally, looking straight down about 15 feet he realized the deer was in the bottom of the draw, right under him. It was a nice young buck, but in bad shape. His front shoulder was almost completely blown off and the deer was looking at dying a long painful death.
Dad pulled his rifle up and shot.
At dark he went to get Paul. He asked “Did you Shoot?” Dad said yeah and he needed some help to get the deer out of the woods. Paul asked him what he meant as he turned bright red.
Dad explained what happened as they headed to the deer. Paul was working on building up his anger by mumbling as they got to the deep bank and finally saw the deer. Paul went ballistic! Screaming and yelling and shouting and refusing to help.
My father eased off into the deep gulley and realized Paul was still on top of the bank. He told him to get down there and help him. Paul coolly replied “You shot him, You drag him” and took off through the woods toward the truck leaving my father standing there yelling for him to get back there.
Much screaming and hollering and threats to use a switch on him while Dad dragged the deer and Paul swearing Dad was a no-good outlaw, greedy and had shot Pauls’ deer on purpose as he left Dad in the woods. Later, the deer was in the truck as Paul finally regained his composure from the frustration of a long season. I would of loved to have seen the screaming fit put on in the woods that day.