Smeared with blood and deer hair, the rubber gloves had been tossed by the roadside. Next to them lay a chunk of guts. The trash couldn’t be missed by anyone who parked at the hiking trail access the hunters had used. By then I’d stopped being surprised. In only my second year as a hunter, … Read more
“How are you doing?” Cath asked. We were sitting at the kitchen table, having coffee. I waggled one hand: so-so. “I’m in that zone.” She nodded. She’d known before I answered. Less than an hour after sunrise that November morning, she’d heard the shot. From the direction and distance, she’d known who squeezed the trigger. … Read more
The twinkle in my stepson’s eyes should have told me I was in for it. He and his wife were up from Jersey for a Christmas visit. It was a month after I’d killed my first deer. And we were opening gifts. The box was small. Pushing aside the tissue paper, I saw the silvery … Read more
The doe stepped into the road, then trotted across and bounded into the woods as I slowed the car. Cath and I both relaxed. We weren’t going fast, but that had been close. Then the second doe was there, very close, pausing at the edge of the road. I caught the flash of movement at … Read more
“Is this venison?” Our friend had just spooned several meatballs onto his plate. I replied that yes, indeed, it was. Sensing an edge to the question, I decided not to elaborate on how I’d shot the five-point buck within a half-mile of the house that November. “I don’t mind,” he said and nodded toward his … Read more