The last weekend of the season was upon us and Dad had not scored with a deer. Everyone there was not too concerned with getting a deer, but really wanted him to get one. Dad had hunted off and on, but mostly enjoyed shooting ducks this winter.
As the last afternoon came, he decided to go to the North Cornfield stand.
It did not take long to be surrounded by deer. It was one of those magical afternoons when deer were everywhere. Finally late that afternoon, the big buck he wanted stepped into the field. Dad put his field glasses on him. It was a big 8-point. He raised his rifle and looked at the big buck. He took the safety off.
Then he did a strange thing. He put the safety on, lowered his rifle, took out his flask of Peach Brandy, raised a toast to the magnificent buck, took a sip and spent the rest of the few moments before dark to just watch the big deer graze in front of him.
Obviously, he is not mad at the deer anymore.
1 comment:
Yeah, I understand him. Did the same on my last hunt and have not hunted deer since. But I will give them hawgs and birds hell.
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