Yesterday afternoon it started raining pretty good so I called my daughter and got the ok to pull my 7yo grandson out of school early to take him out looking for deer. Deer love to move in the rain. I show up to his school in my hunting clothes and tell the teacher I’m here to pick him up. He hears my voice and runs to me saying “grandad! , are we going hunting?”
off we went, stopping by his house to change clothes.
I go to a spot that is pretty wide open in one of the many recent burn areas around my house. It really starts dumping rain and hail. I’m thinking it’s going to be good..
we cruise around stopping at several spots to glass thru the pouring rain but after 2 1/2 hours I haven’t spotted a single deer. The day before, I found several does and a couple small bucks that I walked.
on the way out, I finally see a group of does and point them out to him. One turns his head and I see it’s a small buck. A closer look thru the binos and I see it’s a small fork. He gets really excited and says “ Shoot him grandad!”
One shot with my fathers .270 he left me before he passed away 12 years ago and my grandson screams “you got him grandad, you got him! He was so excited. Probably my best grandad day to date!
we get to the buck and he is just beaming with joy. He helps gut it with me and is mesmerized by the steam coming from the gut cavity as the warmth of the deer meets the cold air. He grabs an antler and we make the short 150 yard drag to the truck. A return trip to the gut pile and he carry’s the heart in one hand and liver in the other back to the truck.
we load up and head home. He helps me hoist the buck up into the “hanging tree “ in the back yard and helps me skin him.
I would have not shot this buck if my grandson had not been there, but this little buck will forever be burned in my memory.
off we went, stopping by his house to change clothes.
I go to a spot that is pretty wide open in one of the many recent burn areas around my house. It really starts dumping rain and hail. I’m thinking it’s going to be good..
we cruise around stopping at several spots to glass thru the pouring rain but after 2 1/2 hours I haven’t spotted a single deer. The day before, I found several does and a couple small bucks that I walked.
on the way out, I finally see a group of does and point them out to him. One turns his head and I see it’s a small buck. A closer look thru the binos and I see it’s a small fork. He gets really excited and says “ Shoot him grandad!”
One shot with my fathers .270 he left me before he passed away 12 years ago and my grandson screams “you got him grandad, you got him! He was so excited. Probably my best grandad day to date!
we get to the buck and he is just beaming with joy. He helps gut it with me and is mesmerized by the steam coming from the gut cavity as the warmth of the deer meets the cold air. He grabs an antler and we make the short 150 yard drag to the truck. A return trip to the gut pile and he carry’s the heart in one hand and liver in the other back to the truck.
we load up and head home. He helps me hoist the buck up into the “hanging tree “ in the back yard and helps me skin him.
I would have not shot this buck if my grandson had not been there, but this little buck will forever be burned in my memory.
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