Who took that shot?
by Steve Knight
Last day of the season, my son and I had been out 8 or 10 times and had only seen 3 or 4 deer and none shootable. We had not hunted the early part of the season as he didn't have his Safety Permit, but now he was discouraged and declined my offer of this last day - cold and windy. The first couple hours after the sun had come were simply cold and my boy's discouragement was also in me.
Movement on the right! A couple of turkey to mock my solitude. Another hour passes. To the right again! Now the whole flock of 20-something passes through. Deer they were not, but seeing anything is better than nothing, and I'm sure these guys will not be around when I have a scattergun in hands come spring. Oh well...
It's getting toward 11:00 now and I'm thinking about giving it up when the heavy beats of wings fill the air and much crunching of leaves precede the startled flock heading back the way they came, and in a hurry. Something certainly spooked them! All is quiet again and it really is time, this time, to call it quits.
Skrish...skrish...skrish... Okay, I'll leave right after this last straggler of a gobbler passes... Only this gobble has 4 legs and fur! Bounces right past the blind, missing it by a mere 15 yards and up the hill and stopping on the military crest to look back to see what spooked it... and apparently the turkey. I look where she looked, and a middle sized (yap) dog is sniffing the ground. Little SOB! Should I shoot him or the deer? Oh yea, the deer! I look back up and she's still standing there, facing away, head turned 180 to the left still locked on the mutt.
This is a permanent blind and when I looked through the 2x scoutscope at the doe some 80 yards distant and up the tree covered hill, with the .308 rested on the wooden ledge, the crosshairs covered on the only shootable place other than her rump, that being the neck/head connection. Funny thing though, whereas my crosshairs move a bit under normal circumstances, here they were as rock solid as they always are on TV or in the movies. I don't know if I should take the head shot or not... The crosshairs are tractor-beam solid...
She's down. Ton o' bricks. Work the bolt. Ready for the follow-up. There's a kick. Be ready... There's another. No further movement. Wonder if that dog's still there...
She didn't move from that spot. She wasn't very big, but this was last day, last deer time, so let us not pick nits. I did get all the meat though, as a head shot doesn't waste much. I don't recall pulling that trigger. "The gun just went off." (Famous last words, huh?) I think God took the shot as it entered half way between her nose and eye and exited the back of here head...where it met the neck. That's why I reckon He took the shot, as I don't do those kinds of things.
Great day. T’was after all a Sunday. Amen.