I woke up early on Monday morning beaming with excitement. I rubbed the sand out of my eyes and skipped over to the freezer. I grabbed the big bag of spicy chicken patties and tossed a trio of circular patties into the black Whirlpool microwave. I firmly pressed the buttons, 5-0-0-Start.
With my breakfast in the process of being cooked, my sidekick Lady Pooch was still snuggled under a quilt as I pulled out 3 slices of rotisserie chicken breast lunchmeat, 5 baby carrots and 3/4 cup of dry dog food. I combined the ingredients and tossed it into her dish.
After a little persuasion, Lady Pooch meandered her way over to the food bowl and begrudgingly took a bite. She gazed at me with confusion as to why we were awake at the crack of dawn.
I expounded to her, “It’s hunting season, Pooch!” but she looked at me like a goat looking at a new fence.
After Pooch licked her platter clean and I choked down my spicy chicken, it was time to clean my weapon in anticipation for a big shoot.
After a thorough examination, I noticed my camera was a little smudged. I huffed a huge breathe of hot air onto the eye of the lens, then grabbed my microfiber cloth and rubbed in a circular motion.
My shooting weapon, the 2020 XR 120 GB iPhone was spit shined to perfection and ready to shoot.
Now, it was time to get dressed for my big day. While camouflage is the traditional garb worn by hunters, my camo line of gear is nil. Deciding against hunting in my birthday suit, I went for comfort over more traditional styles.
I put on a pair boxers, blue Adidas tear-away pants, a Potomac State Baseball t-shirt with a hunter green Nike 3/4 zip.
I pulled 2 Nike tall black socks up to my shins and tied my New Balance trail shoes tight in case I had to do some quick maneuvering.
I strutted over to the bathroom to make sure I looked sharp.
I scraped a nickel-sized amount of pomade out of the cylinder and lathered my hair follicles to spike up my mane.
Legend has it that urine is the scent of choice for avid hunters, but I decided to go against that old wives tale. Instead my aroma of choice was Axe Phoenix, with 2 sprays done in the motion of the letter ‘X’.
I took 1 last look in the mirror, and told myself, today is the day you will shoot your 1st Big Buck.
My hunting buddy Lady Pooch was eagerly awaiting our departure, anticipating a hike deep into the woods.
But I had a different mindset. With all the hunters in the woods with guns, that would drive the deer out of the forest and onto residential properties. It was a no brainer. Why sit in a shoddy made tree stand 15-feet in the cold windy air when I could sit in comfort on my couch with temperatures in the mid-60’s with a big screen playing in the background.
I admit this strategy was against the grain, but I trusted my gut.
Speaking of gut, I knew I might have to wait a while for a buck to walk this way so I snagged a bag of Nut ‘N Berry trail mix, a can of cashews and a bag of Sweet & Hot Jack Link’s Beef Jerky. Lady Pooch quickly approved of my decision to stay in the warm and comfort, helped by the persuasion of a piece of jerky.
Now the hardest part, laying and waiting in silence.
I unfolded a Notre Dame fleece blanket and stuffed a fake down pillow behind my neck for support. My counterpart curled up in her corner of the couch and I placed a plaid red fleece blanket across her body, allowing only her nose to show.
We waited, and waited, and waited, and waited.
Around 10:30 a.m. a gun blast from my neighbor perked my ears with anticipation. Was this the sound that would drive the deer towards my dwelling? I snuck a peak out the back window hoping to see a buck running my direction. No luck.
Back to the waiting game.
We waited, and waited, and waited, and waited.
It was late afternoon and my eyes were starting to get heavy. My hunting partner was snoring as visions of venison danced in her head. Just as I closed my eyes and drool began to drip from my mouth, a loud crash sent me and my sidekick sailing towards to ceiling.
Lady Pooch let out a poignant “Woof” as I grabbed my phone and headed toward the back porch.
I grabbed the door handle and cracked open the door. To my amazement, a big beautiful 7-point buck stood on my hardwood deck.
The buck was having a stare down contest with the black steer just 20-yards away in the cow pasture. Now was my chance. I slowly grabbed the brass door handle and cracked the door slightly.
I pulled out my phone and aimed it directly at the head of this beautiful buck. Meanwhile the Pooch stuck her nose through the crack of the door getting a big whiff of the white tail.
My hands remained steady as I took my shots. Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click. My camera was on point and accurate. I shot that buck so many times I was able to make a video and a gif.
As I was shooting my shots, the buck leaped into the air repeatedly puncturing the back porch chairs, the screens, and breaking the wooden table.
A violent kick toward the cabinet sent it flailing to the floor as glass shattered and scattered items everywhere.
The cow in the pasture noticed the violence of the deer and took off running towards his herd of friends as the buck took one last look at me. He let out a big snort then scaled my golf bag before making his way down my porch.
I did it, I shot my 1st buck!
And I have a picture to prove it.
What a thrilling experience. ο