Been AWOL for a while now... two jobs is not as fun as it may appear, dear friends. This ole girl is just about ready to hang up her bar key for good. Bartending has just about taken it's toll. Plus some guy at my bar told me that standing on your feet for as long as my people do gives you varicose veins. I sat down immediately.
(By the way, if you've ever tried bar tending without a bar key, you might as well cut off your right hand and galge your eyes out . Plus what can you scratch your back with?)
Moving on.
I went hunting with my pa last week. He just bought a few acres outside of town and is clearing all the cedars out and pushing up a dam for a tank. So far, the deer on the place seem pretty tame and well, dumb. Upon seeing you, they generally just carry on with their business like they were raised by humans. So for the most part, they don't scare easy.
So Dad and I go out to his place, all bundled up for the evening, sit in our fold out chairs amongst some trees and await the trophy buck that is sure to arrive. Just kidding. Dad has had his eye on a three point that needed to be taken care of for him. I volunteered.
Soon enough, we spot a few does who seem a little leery of the goings on around them. Dad decides there must be some hogs or something in the brush keeping them from the corn so we wait... and suddenly a herd of cattle come in to view, chasing the doe off. Dad doesn't own cattle. And Dad is pissed.
People, I've seen a lot of cows in my life but I have never ever seen cows behave with such vigor and excitement as these particular cattle did upon seeing the fresh white caliche dam for the tank. These cows were literally bouncing around, play fighting with each other, kicking their heels, a regular Mary Poppins video. So while these cows are having the time of their lives, I'm quietly laughing and Dad, binoculars to face, is cursing and grunting like the dad from "A Christmas Story" does when the furnace goes out:
"Son of a bitch, stinking cows. Whose cows? Damn neighbor. He's not even my neighbor, he lives three places over. He asks me to put a fence up on my place so his stinking cattle won't get out. How in the hell did they get over here? Stinking cows. All over our stinking corn. Stomping and shitting everywhere. Get outta here, damn cows!"
And during the cow debacle, I suddenly see a flash of light from the corn area and realize that one of Dad's hunters has installed a night camera to see if there are any big deer on the place, and the cows are setting off the motion detector. So all the while, Dad getting madder and madder, the cows frolicking, the camera taking ridiculous cow photos, and me, solid entertained.
We decide that the hunt is pretty much over with and we get our guns to head out. But not before Dad rapidly walks the 130 yards to the corn/cattle craze, waving impatiently at the cows, cursing, and upon approaching the camera, waves and smiles for his photo op.
While that is enough to take in for one blog, I'll go ahead and tell you we went out the next evening, this time only one lone cow appeared who did not disrupt our hunt, and I killed a teeny tiny three point who was apparently a real Ladies Man. I took him down a peg or two, I'd say. How embarrassing, getting shot in front of your friends? I haven't shot a deer in years much less even fired my gun, and I got nervous like I was shooting a deer for the first time! When I shot him, he ran off kinda funny and it made me nervous that I gut shot him (not good for all you non hunters out there...very messy) but when we found him, it was a perfect shot in the shoulder. (Pat on my back.)
Me: Well if I didn't gut shoot him I wonder why he reacted like that?
Dad: It's probably because he's never been shot before.
My deer and me. Friends forever.
Tracking boots not included.
