A do-over
Two weekends ago it was youth hunting season. I have a shack that overlooks a food plot. It was 7:10 in the morning on Saturday. A doe walks out of the left side tree line. Pranced around a little and that was odd, but I wasn’t paying attention to that. The Doe (looking around 120 pounds) turns broadside and I put my gun up. I put the black hunting rifle out the window and line up the crosshairs. Breathe in, breathe out. I squeeze the trigger and the gun goes off. The Doe drops to the ground on the spot. I look back out a minute later and there it is. A Spikehorn probably about 150 pounds, a good deer and I missed the chance to shoot it.
Two weekends ago it was youth hunting season. I have a shack that overlooks a food plot. It was 7:10 in the morning on Saturday. A doe walks out of the left side tree line. Pranced around a little and that was odd, but I wasn’t paying attention to that. The Doe (looking around 120 pounds) turns broadside and I put my gun up. I put the black hunting rifle out the window and line up the crosshairs. Breathe in, breathe out. I squeeze the trigger and the gun goes off. The Doe drops to the ground on the spot. I look back out a minute later and there it is. A Spikehorn probably about 150 pounds, a good deer and I missed the chance to shoot it.
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