You win the thread already!Huh. My parents used to make me go play in the backyard on Sunday afternoons. Didn't understand why till I was older. Still never followed anyone around though. lol
There's an awesome book titled "The September Fawn" that takes place in Florida swamps. Highly recommend!The September Fawn and the "expert" hunter:
A wonderful friend and neighbor passed quite a few years back. We shared a long section of private road (private means the county refuses to maintain it...). My wife and I were driving by his place the first of September and stopped, still feeling the loss, looking over his always well groomed front yard which now was almost waist high grass.
As we sat talking about our friend, a doe stood up directly in front of his deck in a small circle of beat down grass. She was unaware of us but concerned us because she looked injured. We watched her birth a fawn. We sat mesmerized and honestly it was almost a spiritual, healing moment.
The doe became aware of us and agitated so we slowly drove away. This is the latest I have ever seen a new fawn and the only deer I have seen birthed.
The next week I was brush hogging what I'll call the top of my extended yard and got a funny feeling and stopped. Not sure what caught my attention but stopped the tractor got down and found the fawn, a male, laying right in my path. He was not about to move but appeared healthy. I backed out and cut a circle around him. Quess I earned some creds with the doe because she basically left her fawn in our care almost daily after that. Not treated like a pet but the guy was so small and winter was coming so we set out some corn and apple slices for him occasionally.
Fast forward to late December and I the "expert" hunter carefully and quietly made my way into the top of a steep ravine. I was quite sure I had successfully gotten in undetected. It had been a brutal winter and I remember having on ALL my layers, sitting with my back against a persimmon tree, with a cammo blanket over me feet to chest, and still shivering. Waiting for that big buck to come sneaking through the ravine, a trail the big guys used often.
I soon heard chasing that seemed to go around me in a circle always just out of sight. After a couple circles the September Fawn peaks over the ravine edge directly down wind of me and then rushes directly to me and literally drops at my feet. He is panting like crazy and pretty ragged looking. His winter coat did not seem to have had time to grow in fully and the little runt just looked terrible.
About that time a spike came rushing over the ridge and ran right down to us. The September Fawn all but crawled into my lap as the spike came in, now apparently chasing and bullying the only male small enough for him to bully. I thought I was going to have to shoot that crazy spike but it finally pulled up less than ten feet away realizing I was there. He literally stomped and bluffed, even with me there, causing the September Fawn to tremble even more.
The spike suddenly realized that his rage was about to get him killed and must have fell down three times before he got over the edge of the ravine, running flat out till I could no longer hear him. Not sure what County he stopped in.
The September Fawn moved a little further away from me but lay below my feet while both of us worked on getting control of our breathing. When "I" had recovered enough I got up, gathered my gear, slung my rifle and walked down to the house, now fully aware that every deer in the woods probably knew where I had been and was since I entered the woods. The September Fawn followed me for maybe 50 yards, probably making sure the spike wasn't still waiting for him, then he just turned and went on his way.
Is the book longer or shorter than my story???There's an awesome book titled "The September Fawn" that takes place in Florida swamps. Highly recommend!
I was walking to my stand on a bowhunt one morning. I heard something running up the logging road toward me. I thought it might be a deer, so I knocked an arrow. A pack of dogs topped the hill about 50 yards away. They slid to a stop, and the big black dog in the lead started growling and showing his teeth. I pulled my 9mm ,and pointed it at them. Fortunately they changed their mind, turned and ran.At the property I hunt in Scott County the local reds had taken to dumping deer carcasses in an area where there was already a longstanding dumping ground for all types of rubbish. A pack of wild dogs was roaming the area and had taken up residence in the dump to feed on the deer parts. I always parked at the dump and walked into the property. It was before dawn when I pulled up and got out with a single shot 270. A chorus of deep, menacing growls greeted me. I was nervous but walked in anyway. Upon returning to the truck at mid day the dogs were gone. I went home, ate lunch, and returned for the evening's hunt armed with the ol' Winchester 94 30-30. As soon as I get out of the truck one of the dogs comes out from under a mattress with his hackles raised. He found his doom. At the crack of the carbine dogs burst out in every direction! Now here is what John Moses designed this gun to do! With each shot a mongrel met its maker. There were eight of the varmints and seven died outright. The last one foolishly stopped about 50 yards away screened by brush. At the shot it yelped and twisted its body oddly before lighting out howling. Eight shots, seven outright kills, one questionable hit, and an empty rifle with smoke curling like a wisp from an open chamber.
Ha! It's longer & well worth the read.Is the book longer or shorter than my story???
Looks like it should be. Ordered it...Ha! It's longer & well worth the read.
That's a very cool story. It shows us all how really close we are to each other on some level. Thanks for sharing.The September Fawn and the "expert" hunter:
A wonderful friend and neighbor passed quite a few years back. We shared a long section of private road (private means the county refuses to maintain it...). My wife and I were driving by his place the first of September and stopped, still feeling the loss, looking over his always well groomed front yard which now was almost waist high grass.
As we sat talking about our friend, a doe stood up directly in front of his deck in a small circle of beat down grass. She was unaware of us but concerned us because she looked injured. We watched her birth a fawn. We sat mesmerized and honestly it was almost a spiritual, healing moment.
The doe became aware of us and agitated so we slowly drove away. This is the latest I have ever seen a new fawn and the only deer I have seen birthed.
The next week I was brush hogging what I'll call the top of my extended yard and got a funny feeling and stopped. Not sure what caught my attention but stopped the tractor got down and found the fawn, a male, laying right in my path. He was not about to move but appeared healthy. I backed out and cut a circle around him. Quess I earned some creds with the doe because she basically left her fawn in our care almost daily after that. Not treated like a pet but the guy was so small and winter was coming so we set out some corn and apple slices for him occasionally.
Fast forward to late December and I the "expert" hunter carefully and quietly made my way into the top of a steep ravine. I was quite sure I had successfully gotten in undetected. It had been a brutal winter and I remember having on ALL my layers, sitting with my back against a persimmon tree, with a cammo blanket over me feet to chest, and still shivering. Waiting for that big buck to come sneaking through the ravine, a trail the big guys used often.
I soon heard chasing that seemed to go around me in a circle always just out of sight. After a couple circles the September Fawn peaks over the ravine edge directly down wind of me and then rushes directly to me and literally drops at my feet. He is panting like crazy and pretty ragged looking. His winter coat did not seem to have had time to grow in fully and the little runt just looked terrible.
About that time a spike came rushing over the ridge and ran right down to us. The September Fawn all but crawled into my lap as the spike came in, now apparently chasing and bullying the only male small enough for him to bully. I thought I was going to have to shoot that crazy spike but it finally pulled up less than ten feet away realizing I was there. He literally stomped and bluffed, even with me there, causing the September Fawn to tremble even more.
The spike suddenly realized that his rage was about to get him killed and must have fell down three times before he got over the edge of the ravine, running flat out till I could no longer hear him. Not sure what County he stopped in.
The September Fawn moved a little further away from me but lay below my feet while both of us worked on getting control of our breathing. When "I" had recovered enough I got up, gathered my gear, slung my rifle and walked down to the house, now fully aware that every deer in the woods probably knew where I had been and was since I entered the woods. The September Fawn followed me for maybe 50 yards, probably making sure the spike wasn't still waiting for him, then he just turned and went on his way.
That is a SUPER COOL story! Thanks for posting.The September Fawn and the "expert" hunter:
A wonderful friend and neighbor passed quite a few years back. We shared a long section of private road (private means the county refuses to maintain it...). My wife and I were driving by his place the first of September and stopped, still feeling the loss, looking over his always well groomed front yard which now was almost waist high grass.
As we sat talking about our friend, a doe stood up directly in front of his deck in a small circle of beat down grass. She was unaware of us but concerned us because she looked injured. We watched her birth a fawn. We sat mesmerized and honestly it was almost a spiritual, healing moment.
The doe became aware of us and agitated so we slowly drove away. This is the latest I have ever seen a new fawn and the only deer I have seen birthed.
The next week I was brush hogging what I'll call the top of my extended yard and got a funny feeling and stopped. Not sure what caught my attention but stopped the tractor got down and found the fawn, a male, laying right in my path. He was not about to move but appeared healthy. I backed out and cut a circle around him. Quess I earned some creds with the doe because she basically left her fawn in our care almost daily after that. Not treated like a pet but the guy was so small and winter was coming so we set out some corn and apple slices for him occasionally.
Fast forward to late December and I the "expert" hunter carefully and quietly made my way into the top of a steep ravine. I was quite sure I had successfully gotten in undetected. It had been a brutal winter and I remember having on ALL my layers, sitting with my back against a persimmon tree, with a cammo blanket over me feet to chest, and still shivering. Waiting for that big buck to come sneaking through the ravine, a trail the big guys used often.
I soon heard chasing that seemed to go around me in a circle always just out of sight. After a couple circles the September Fawn peaks over the ravine edge directly down wind of me and then rushes directly to me and literally drops at my feet. He is panting like crazy and pretty ragged looking. His winter coat did not seem to have had time to grow in fully and the little runt just looked terrible.
About that time a spike came rushing over the ridge and ran right down to us. The September Fawn all but crawled into my lap as the spike came in, now apparently chasing and bullying the only male small enough for him to bully. I thought I was going to have to shoot that crazy spike but it finally pulled up less than ten feet away realizing I was there. He literally stomped and bluffed, even with me there, causing the September Fawn to tremble even more.
The spike suddenly realized that his rage was about to get him killed and must have fell down three times before he got over the edge of the ravine, running flat out till I could no longer hear him. Not sure what County he stopped in.
The September Fawn moved a little further away from me but lay below my feet while both of us worked on getting control of our breathing. When "I" had recovered enough I got up, gathered my gear, slung my rifle and walked down to the house, now fully aware that every deer in the woods probably knew where I had been and was since I entered the woods. The September Fawn followed me for maybe 50 yards, probably making sure the spike wasn't still waiting for him, then he just turned and went on his way.
Too funny. Back when I first acquired my hunting property it was over-run by feral dogs. But for some unknown reason, they all vanished due to a lead-poisoning induced mass extinction event. Very strange.Not near as exciting as some of these but I was almost attacked by a hog a few years ago. He contracted a sudden and severe case of lead poisoning and fell at my feet. Was squeeling and thrashing like he had been shot or something....