sick day

 It was November 11th, a Thursday morning.  I woke up at 4:30, checked the weather for the third time. The forecast was promising. It was going to be 31 degrees and clear with no wind. I didn't want to waste a day like that at work. I sent my boss, Danny, a text message telling him I'd been up all night, sick, and didn't feel like coming in. Danny understood me and deer season. 

    I stayed up and got ready. My springer spaniel, Lucy, stayed in bed and just before daylight I was sneaking toward my tree stand called "The Super Dome". I named it that in memory of a tree stand my dad had built down in South Georgia. He built his stand using four trees for corners and it was about 25 feet high. It  had a square floor and a seat that could face in any direction. My Super Dome is a 20 feet tall ladder stand. It has a really comfortable seat at the top with a roof with a blind built around it. It's tucked back into the woods just enough to hide it and over looks a food plot planted in buck oats and peas. There are a few persimmon and apple trees, too.

   I was crossing the creek when I heard a crashing in the brush that sounded like a D6 Dozer coming towards me through the trees. It was two does and a spike, running. Behind them was a really big buck. Man, he was skint back. Because of his speed his rack was a blur. It all happened in half a second and they were gone. They didn't even see me. The four of them turned to their right and went toward the food plot. I turned to my right and hoped to intercept the buck on the trail that goes behind the Super Dome leaving the food plot. I was standing at the end of that trail and here he came walking and bobbing his head. I pulled up on him and he saw me and turned and ran back toward the Super Dome. I kept walking, hoping he'd take the next trail that was parallel with Interstate 75 South...and he did. He stepped into the open and after several tries I got a dry whistle out and he stopped and looked at me. I already had the cross hairs on him. Time stood still as I pulled the trigger of the Winchester 270 rifle my dad had gave me 30 years before. I knew I'd hit him but had my doubts when he  took off and was running South up a hill. Then I saw his white belly as he piled up and rolled down the embankment. I walked up to him and it was then that I realized what a good buck he was.  I sent Danny a picture and a message telling him I was feeling much better now. After gutting him, I loaded him in the truck and took a slow drive to the deer cooler...the long way. It was one of the best days of my life, so if you ever get the hankerin' to go hunting on a work day, do it.

​Pete Griffin

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