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My friend's Buck!
fishermanben
Member Posts: 15,370
The last Sunday of the first shotgun season I was sitting having a beer with my best buddy and said, "It's about time you leave to hunt isn't it?"
He responded, "No, I don't think I'm going out."
I retorted, "You worthless S-O-B!!! It's 50 degrees out, sunny, no wind, and I can't fu*^ing bow hunt, and you have the nerve to say that you're not hunting?"
With those comments and a few more * remarks he finally agreed to go and asked me if I'd like to go out and sit in a ground blind with him. I thought that sounded better than watching the Bears lose, so out the door we went. After sitting for about an hour the bastage backhanded me as hard as he could. I knew that he was REALLY trying to get my attention. I looked over and here this monster comes running through the field straight at us. My buddy looks back at me and his eyes are about to bug out of his head, his lips a pursed, and his face is white."
The buck stopped at about 80 yards, and my friend looks back at me again.
I say in my calmest most articulate voice, "Shoot that motherfugger."
BOOM!!!--and the buck ran about 10 yards and looked around.
CHING-CHUNGK BOOOOOM!!! and, I said, ohhh boy, you got 'em. Then the Buck looked around and trotted off. "Ah, Nick!!! I think you grazed him. He didn't look hurt. Let's look for blood. Nothing....nothing...wait...here's a little bit of hair. By then it was dark outside. We were walking around looking for blood with worthless flashlights, and there was hardly any at all. I said, "This sucks, Nick. Let's come back tomorrow morning, WE DO NOT want to cover up his trail!!!"
The next morning he showed up about an hour before the buttcrack of dawn and woke me and said, "Bad news, Buddy. It's raining."
I moaned, "Oh no Nickolii, Not good man, not good at all!"
Well, when we got out there, the blood was gone--no suprise at all. I said, well, there's the big sonuvabiches track, let's follow it. And we did, and then Nick yelled, "HOLY SH@! There he is!!! There he is!!!"
And, here he is...
Nick and his buck. He dressed at just under 200lb w/ 13 scorable points. He had a broken G1 and G2 on his right side.
"The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right time, but also to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment."
He responded, "No, I don't think I'm going out."
I retorted, "You worthless S-O-B!!! It's 50 degrees out, sunny, no wind, and I can't fu*^ing bow hunt, and you have the nerve to say that you're not hunting?"
With those comments and a few more * remarks he finally agreed to go and asked me if I'd like to go out and sit in a ground blind with him. I thought that sounded better than watching the Bears lose, so out the door we went. After sitting for about an hour the bastage backhanded me as hard as he could. I knew that he was REALLY trying to get my attention. I looked over and here this monster comes running through the field straight at us. My buddy looks back at me and his eyes are about to bug out of his head, his lips a pursed, and his face is white."
The buck stopped at about 80 yards, and my friend looks back at me again.
I say in my calmest most articulate voice, "Shoot that motherfugger."
BOOM!!!--and the buck ran about 10 yards and looked around.
CHING-CHUNGK BOOOOOM!!! and, I said, ohhh boy, you got 'em. Then the Buck looked around and trotted off. "Ah, Nick!!! I think you grazed him. He didn't look hurt. Let's look for blood. Nothing....nothing...wait...here's a little bit of hair. By then it was dark outside. We were walking around looking for blood with worthless flashlights, and there was hardly any at all. I said, "This sucks, Nick. Let's come back tomorrow morning, WE DO NOT want to cover up his trail!!!"
The next morning he showed up about an hour before the buttcrack of dawn and woke me and said, "Bad news, Buddy. It's raining."
I moaned, "Oh no Nickolii, Not good man, not good at all!"
Well, when we got out there, the blood was gone--no suprise at all. I said, well, there's the big sonuvabiches track, let's follow it. And we did, and then Nick yelled, "HOLY SH@! There he is!!! There he is!!!"
And, here he is...
Nick and his buck. He dressed at just under 200lb w/ 13 scorable points. He had a broken G1 and G2 on his right side.
"The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right time, but also to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment."
Comments
Why do they make it taste so good and put it in them little bitty cans- Dad
At times, days in the field are more than sport, more than adventure. They are nothing less than a gift to the soul.- John L. Moore Buckmaster magazine
Why do they make it taste so good and put it in them little bitty cans- Dad
At times, days in the field are more than sport, more than adventure. They are nothing less than a gift to the soul.- John L. Moore Buckmaster magazine
NRA Life Member ---"A pocket knife, a clean hankey, and a pistol... things I can use." - Ted Nugent
1-Powder
2-Patch
3-Ball
4-Remove the Rod
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