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Grandson's first deer
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<blockquote data-quote="Huckelberry75" data-source="post: 3177594" data-attributes="member: 7489"><p>Looks like Tom Clancy is safe from any new action thrillers poaching on his territory from DeerSlayer…..</p><p></p><p>Yes, Pushmataha County was a total bust the previous weekend. Very little movement and judging by the shots around us, the bucks were in lockdown for breeding. We knew that we had this 9pt around another property, but he was inconsistent on his appearances. When one of the resident does start to "attract his attention", that all changed. Maddox and I decided that we would make a run at him, as soon as possible. We hit the stand about 4:15, much later than I wanted, but working in the oil patch is chaotic at best. Early in the evening, we had several does and yearlings come through the Buck Forage Oats and 4X4 mix food plot for a bite of green protein. The wise old doe, who I have named "Crabapple" decided that she didn't like the blind window being open and after 15 minutes decided to move the troops onward. Fast forward to 5:10pm, a small 2.5yr 6pt how had thick G1's with smaller crab claws on the ends came into the field and started running the ladies around like he owned the place. In between his stamping, grunting and pretty much being a horny teenager, I heard heavier and deeper grunts coming out of the treeline. Now, by this time Maddox had seen the little 6pt and said, "Daddy, I really want to shoot him". Knowing that I had heard the voice of maturity from inside the cedar and privet thicket, I finally convinced him to just wait and see if the bigger buck would step out. The 6pt finally chased a doe around the corner, and I could see the he was worried about not getting a shot. This could easily have been a beneficial but crummy lesson that most of us who hunt have learned long ago. When you pass one, you run the risk of leaving empty handed, but it is important for the herd to not shoot anything that moves. By now, it's getting close to last shooting light, and the does in the field seem undisturbed and uninterested, so I figure that we should start heading to Braum's for a compensatory ice cream cone. As I reach over to grab my pack, I happen to glance at the old doe closest to the blind, and notice that she has company. I raise the bino's, and find that the big 9pt has ghosted into the clover patch. Things hit full throttle now. We only have minutes left in light and the does start to filter off. We get the rifle out the window and watch as the buck ambles over to the corn feeder for a little bite off the cracked Halloween pumpkins and some "old yeller". Maddox gets on the gun and has the buck at full broadside at 34yds and is taking up slack in the trigger when the buck turns his full body to face the blind. I figure that the jog is up, so I ask Maddox if he can see the white throat patch under the chin. When he confirms yes, I tell him to drop about halfway down the neck and then slowly squeeze the trigger when he is steady. I continue to watch through the binos until I hear the little ackley cough and the hollow whop come from 34yds away followed by a head flipping backwards and a white belly going straight up. The buck sat down on his butt, and then fell back forwards and to the right, landing with his head on the feeder leg (will have to straighten that out later). Two little kicks of the left hind leg and that was game over. DRT. Autopsy showed that the bullet entered the front of the neck, just right of center, went through the windpipe, started to upset as it entered the thoracic cavity, cleaned all of the plumbing off the heart about 3" up and then took out the 3 front ribs on the left side of the ribcage before running out of gas. Total hand grenade. Never found more than two pencil eraser sized flakes of the jacket. Most of the meat is headed to Sallee's in Guthrie for their delicious snack sticks and the head and cape went to Gerald Hillman at Hillman's Taxidermy in Yukon for a full shoulder mount. He already has the spot on the wall picked out, much to his mother's chagrin. I couldn't be happier, but I may have created a monster, b/c he is already asking when we are taking the crossbow out to fill his archery tag....might be time to go freezer shopping.</p><p><img src="/images/smilies/new/Thumbup3.gif" class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":thumbup3:" title="Thumbup3 :thumbup3:" data-shortname=":thumbup3:" /></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Huckelberry75, post: 3177594, member: 7489"] Looks like Tom Clancy is safe from any new action thrillers poaching on his territory from DeerSlayer….. Yes, Pushmataha County was a total bust the previous weekend. Very little movement and judging by the shots around us, the bucks were in lockdown for breeding. We knew that we had this 9pt around another property, but he was inconsistent on his appearances. When one of the resident does start to "attract his attention", that all changed. Maddox and I decided that we would make a run at him, as soon as possible. We hit the stand about 4:15, much later than I wanted, but working in the oil patch is chaotic at best. Early in the evening, we had several does and yearlings come through the Buck Forage Oats and 4X4 mix food plot for a bite of green protein. The wise old doe, who I have named "Crabapple" decided that she didn't like the blind window being open and after 15 minutes decided to move the troops onward. Fast forward to 5:10pm, a small 2.5yr 6pt how had thick G1's with smaller crab claws on the ends came into the field and started running the ladies around like he owned the place. In between his stamping, grunting and pretty much being a horny teenager, I heard heavier and deeper grunts coming out of the treeline. Now, by this time Maddox had seen the little 6pt and said, "Daddy, I really want to shoot him". Knowing that I had heard the voice of maturity from inside the cedar and privet thicket, I finally convinced him to just wait and see if the bigger buck would step out. The 6pt finally chased a doe around the corner, and I could see the he was worried about not getting a shot. This could easily have been a beneficial but crummy lesson that most of us who hunt have learned long ago. When you pass one, you run the risk of leaving empty handed, but it is important for the herd to not shoot anything that moves. By now, it's getting close to last shooting light, and the does in the field seem undisturbed and uninterested, so I figure that we should start heading to Braum's for a compensatory ice cream cone. As I reach over to grab my pack, I happen to glance at the old doe closest to the blind, and notice that she has company. I raise the bino's, and find that the big 9pt has ghosted into the clover patch. Things hit full throttle now. We only have minutes left in light and the does start to filter off. We get the rifle out the window and watch as the buck ambles over to the corn feeder for a little bite off the cracked Halloween pumpkins and some "old yeller". Maddox gets on the gun and has the buck at full broadside at 34yds and is taking up slack in the trigger when the buck turns his full body to face the blind. I figure that the jog is up, so I ask Maddox if he can see the white throat patch under the chin. When he confirms yes, I tell him to drop about halfway down the neck and then slowly squeeze the trigger when he is steady. I continue to watch through the binos until I hear the little ackley cough and the hollow whop come from 34yds away followed by a head flipping backwards and a white belly going straight up. The buck sat down on his butt, and then fell back forwards and to the right, landing with his head on the feeder leg (will have to straighten that out later). Two little kicks of the left hind leg and that was game over. DRT. Autopsy showed that the bullet entered the front of the neck, just right of center, went through the windpipe, started to upset as it entered the thoracic cavity, cleaned all of the plumbing off the heart about 3" up and then took out the 3 front ribs on the left side of the ribcage before running out of gas. Total hand grenade. Never found more than two pencil eraser sized flakes of the jacket. Most of the meat is headed to Sallee's in Guthrie for their delicious snack sticks and the head and cape went to Gerald Hillman at Hillman's Taxidermy in Yukon for a full shoulder mount. He already has the spot on the wall picked out, much to his mother's chagrin. I couldn't be happier, but I may have created a monster, b/c he is already asking when we are taking the crossbow out to fill his archery tag....might be time to go freezer shopping. :thumbup3: [/QUOTE]
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