That's what my grandmother used to say whenever something appeared unusual or even not-quite-right.
And that's what this hunting story is about - something I'd never seen before, and after having asked other long-time hunters, none so far have seen it, either. But maybe you have.
I hunted near Menard at the western edge of the Hill Country the last few days, looking to thin the doe population. Well, a mature doe wandered into bow range near the feeder, and wham! Spined her, and she dropped dead on the spot, about 10' from the feeder. The time still being early, I just sat back to see what else would show up, leaving her lie where she fell.
Didn't take long before a small 4 point came in. He eyed her, looking askance, and not real sure about what was going on. Pawing the ground, he got up a little more courage, and walked up to her butt, and sniffed. But that was only the start!
For the next 20 minutes, he'd alternate between pawing the ground, smelling her butt, running to nuzzle her nose, giving her backside a hoof, turning around several times, and restarting the process. I should mention that his tumescence became obvious, and it just seemed to twitch with excitement.
Eventually, a really big melanistic 8 point came in, and observing the situation, went over to the dead doe, and sniffed. But him being more experienced, he didn't get nearly as excited as the little boy, but ran him off just the same. Then he casually went about eating the corn, and didn't even pay attention when the little boy came back in for a final try with the doe.
That was about as much fun as I've had hunting in years! It was hard (no pun intended) to keep from cracking up while still in the blind. But I certainly did so when retelling the story to my hunting buddies later on.
And that's what this hunting story is about - something I'd never seen before, and after having asked other long-time hunters, none so far have seen it, either. But maybe you have.
I hunted near Menard at the western edge of the Hill Country the last few days, looking to thin the doe population. Well, a mature doe wandered into bow range near the feeder, and wham! Spined her, and she dropped dead on the spot, about 10' from the feeder. The time still being early, I just sat back to see what else would show up, leaving her lie where she fell.
Didn't take long before a small 4 point came in. He eyed her, looking askance, and not real sure about what was going on. Pawing the ground, he got up a little more courage, and walked up to her butt, and sniffed. But that was only the start!
For the next 20 minutes, he'd alternate between pawing the ground, smelling her butt, running to nuzzle her nose, giving her backside a hoof, turning around several times, and restarting the process. I should mention that his tumescence became obvious, and it just seemed to twitch with excitement.
Eventually, a really big melanistic 8 point came in, and observing the situation, went over to the dead doe, and sniffed. But him being more experienced, he didn't get nearly as excited as the little boy, but ran him off just the same. Then he casually went about eating the corn, and didn't even pay attention when the little boy came back in for a final try with the doe.
That was about as much fun as I've had hunting in years! It was hard (no pun intended) to keep from cracking up while still in the blind. But I certainly did so when retelling the story to my hunting buddies later on.
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