Figures I would finally get around to starting my own blog AFTER
Barbie did. Shoot me now.
All my talk about the opening of deer season, I guess I'd better tell my tale of woe.
Saturday morning, Mr. Perfect and I do it right- up at 3:30, out of the house at 4:30, ensconced in our aerial perches an hour before shooting light. About 7:30, in the murky recesses at the edge of a clearcut, I see the fabled 10 pointer I've been hearing about on this land for 6 years. Calculated it to be a 160 yard shot, at the edge of my competency with my muzzleloader, but all the conditions were right. Steady rest, deep breath, exhale, gentle pressure on the trigger, try to be surprised by the shot....
Before the cloud of smoke completely obscured my vision I saw the buck stagger and whirl to the north. After a decent interval, Gordie and I set out to find him. We picked up the trail exactly where we should have, but it was very light- hands and knees trailing- over hill and dale for nearly two hours, crawling through the briars and the brambles. The deer ran off the farm we were hunting, across a utility easement and into an adjoining farmette. As we approached the end of the trail, literally within a hundred feet of our now-expired buck, a lunatic Bambi idolator came screaming out of his house, demanding we leave immediately, and "stop hunting on his land", threatening us with the police, etc (Mr. Perfect took this very hard). An extremely contrite and polite conversation, explaining that we weren't hunting on his land, that we had hunted elsewhere and were just recovering our deer; that it was immoral to wantonly waste game; that we took the responsibility that goes with taking life extremely seriously and did our best to honor the deer by using every bit possible; that the deer was now dead and would only rot where it lay, all was for naught- his land was HIS land and inviolate, and when my deer crossed the line it became HIS too! I called the DNR, hoping I could get a game warden to maybe meet this fellow with me and explain the concept of "fair chase" as well as wildlife management, but no luck there either.
The perfect irony is that his horses had wandered off his land that same morning, came to visit the horses on my hunting land, and the owners not only
didn't accuse his handyman of trespassing and threaten to call the police and blah blah blah when he came trailing them, but they went out of their way to help him lead the horses back to ProtectorOfWildlifeAndSanctityOfBoundariesMan. If they'd applied his own logic, we'd be elbow deep in horsemeat.
Oh, and I also had to hear all about how hunting was immoral. Yeah, buddy, that cow JUMPED into the shrinkwrap down at the Safeway.