I can’t really help it; those doe make me drool
Running and chasing; not an ounce of fat on my back
Worn down and weary; but still carry a big rack
The third day of gun season; I was slinking back to bed
I knew I was late; was worried I’d end up dead
I crossed the ravine; with a clatter of rock
Bedding is near; finally some rest for my big swinging ___
Eighty yards to go; I sneak through the brush
Flooded with relief; I’m not in a rush
Thinking about a J-hook; I hear a loud BOOM
A thump in my chest; I know I’m now doomed
Sprint up the hill; it’s instinct I think
Wonder who pulled the trigger? Probably some dink
I fall down twice; painting the ground with my blood
Third time down; it’s all over bud
Staring up to Heaven; everything goes black
Bucks all around me; apparently whacked
Two other bucks; they too ran out of luck
All three of us; killed by the same lucky shmuck
Blood on the trail
As I found him.
Top view
For all you uncouth, dip in the lip, pee off the porch degenerates...
Buck in the truck
A thank you is due to JAB for the brutal ten yard drag to the logging road
. Thanks for tolerating me for 3 fun days of hunting.
A toad! Congrats 
