Nov. 2007 - Volume 68, Issue 11
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Grandpa’s Ten Pointer continued...
I got set up, and within minutes movement from the side caught my eye. Carefully, I leaned around the tree for a better look. Sure enough, a large deer was working across the hillside, 90 yards behind me. Through the briars and tall grass, I could see antlers as he raised his head. A couple of soft grunts from my call got his attention, and he started working my way.
From what I could tell, he looked like a decent 8-pointer. A nice surprise, as I only expected does this late in the year. At 65 yards, he made it to a little clearing and turned his head. By then I was really excited. He had four points on his left side, but he was showing six on the right, with good width and tremendous mass.
“He’s a giant!” raced through my head.
Eventually, the big 10-pointer made it into my 30-yard shooting lane. All I needed was for him to look away, look down or look anywhere else so I could draw.
Finally he looked away, and I drew my bow. Just then, he swung his head back and picked me off in the tree. I hurriedly settled the 30-yard pin behind his shoulder and squeezed the release. At the same time he whirled around. I watched the arrow sail harmlessly over his back as he bounded away.
My only thought was, “No! No! No! That didn’t just happen.” I hung my head against the tree and stared down in disbelief.
Back at my dad’s place, I told the story with a halfhearted smile. My 4-year-old son, Sam, listened intently. He told me he wanted to feel the antlers and touch the fur. “Daddy, I want to go to deer hunting,” he said.
“Not tonight, Bub. Daddy blew it,” was my only reply.
My wife, Katie, and our 1-year-old, Tyler, arrived to a full house the following night. I related the story again, and by then I was able to tell it with a whole-hearted smile. What was more important to me was that our families made the trip safely, and we were celebrating a belated Christmas together.
A day later, on New Year’s Eve, the phone rang and my stepmom answered. “Yeah, he’s right here,” she said, and handed me the phone.
Right then I knew what it was. I could hear Mom crying on the other end of the line. “It’s your grandpa,” she said. “He passed away in his sleep early this morning.”
About This Article
Author
Randy Doman is the conservation agent for Dade County. He enjoys a good old-fashioned hunting story, and he feels blessed to enjoy the natural resources handed down from the previous generation of conservationists. He's also grateful for the privilege to protect them for the next generation.
