Wilkommen to das Deer Shute 1998 by Rod Anreel

1998 was a great first time deer hunt for me and my wife. We asked the farmer if we could hunt on his property because it's polite to ask permission first.  I think we were pretty darned lucky to bag one for the record books on our "first deer hunt" in Michigan.  Here is the story:

It was a cold crisp and dark November morning.   It was so cold the beer was freezing on my mustache, and it was so dark  my wife couldn't find my zipper to let me go pee.  I tricked her.. I really didn't have to go pee.. aye?  Anyways,  I was sitting there on the bait pile drinkin my beer, eatin a carrot, and listenin to polka's on the radio when I heard this noise "snort snort." "Ssshhhhh, shut off the radio"..I think that noise came from that field over by the barn," my wife screamed in excitement!  "Jolly Jumpin Junipers,  I better take my flashlight and go see if that was a Buck Snort!"  (I have to check to see if it snorts and has balls, cause I don't be shootin the Does, aye?)   We put the beer back in the cooler and shut off the radio.  I picked up my brand new .22 caliber deer rifle and clicked the safety off,  and ran over toward the barn with my flashlight to see what the hell all this snortin was about.

I about fell flat on my ass when I saw him..  Right there standing before my drunken bloodshot eyes was the biggest and fattest  majestic lookin buck with the biggest balls and widest rack I had ever seen.  His rack was almost as wide as my friggin trailer!  He was standing right out in the open.  I knew  then and there, that if I could shoot this big balled son of a bitch, I would be in the Record Books!  I closed my eyes and said an old Indian prayer I heard once when I was a boy.  I nicknamed the buck  "Big Blue,"  because I had heard an old Indian say you should name the deer before you kill it, so the deer will like you and won't run away. Or maybe he didn't run cause the light was shining in his eyes.

Quietly I steadied my rifle and sighted Big Blue down the barrel.  Big Blue's head lay perfectly in-line with the iron notch.  Big Blue's eyes were looking back into mine.  The moment felt pure and I took a deep breath... I gently squeezed the trigger ..."CLICK"...  "Ah shute.. no bullets."   I cussed and bitched and stomped my feet while my wife held the flashlight.  I was going through my pockets lookin for bullets. I found a box of bullets in my coat pocket and quickly loaded one into the rifle.  I started all over again.  I sighted Big Blue back in the iron notch and thought  "Blue..., you are a deaf, dumb, and stupid s.o.b., or just really nice to wait while I get ready to shoot your sorry big blue ass."  The shot rang out with a crisp "crack" in the cool morning air, and Big Blue dropped to his front knees with a hollow thud.  Now Blue looked like he was a little irritated, but he continued to wait patiently while I reloaded.  It sure was lucky that I  found the box of bullets,  because it took the whole damn box of  ".22 Stingers" to get Blue to go down on all fours and close his eyes for good.  I said that old Indian prayer for Blue again,  just for luck.  Big Blue was one tough hombre and put up a hell of a fight.

I dressed out Big Blue after my wife took the "Infamous photograph of Big Blue and me."  I had to have my wife drag Blue out of the barn yard using the winch on our pickup truck, because Blue was to dang'd heavy for me to drag over my shoulder.  I thought it would be a nice gesture to share some of Blue with that nice farmer that let us hunt on his property,  but my wife thought it would be nice if we got back home before that nice farmer woke up. 

                                                                                                                         -Rod Anreel-

Big Blue and Me - November 1998

Here's a picture of my boy, he went huntin too, but wasn't so lucky

Kind of skinny,  but still legal