Annie's Buck Part Deux Sunday Morning

[Mike P]

I was in a sound sleep when I felt her hand on my shoulder. The time was five A.M. "Time vie get up," she whispered. "Wie vil hunt him dis morning," she added. I groaned and rolled over as she got out of bed and headed to the spam to make coffee. I told her before we went to bed last night that it did not look good from a weather standpoint to hunt in the morning. She dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand.

I despise hunting in the rain. This statement does not mean I have a strong dislike for getting wet. I have enough high end rain gear to supply a small army. She does as well. No, I am reluctant to shoot if there is any chance that a blood trail can be compromised. I lost a buck to a washed out blood trail a very long time ago. I vowed it would never happen again. I have remained true to that vow.

"De rain vil not be of consequence," she tells me as I stagger into the breakfast room still in my robe. "It is barra spotta regn," she continues as she hands me my just filled coffee mug. If my translation is correct I surmise that she has told me that it is just misting outside and not really raining. But then again, in my early morning stupor, she very well could have told me she is having an affair with our mailman. Either way, I know it is counter productive to pursue the statement. We are going after her buck and it is not up for negotiation.

This will be the first visit to the funnel since my encounter with her buck two days ago. I finish the warm dark liquid and head to the shower in the master bedroom to remove any trace of scent possible and find her already doing the same. As I enter the shower she brushes past me exiting and tells me to "Skynda dig" which I have heard countless times during our forty plus years of marriage. She is telling me to "get a move on" and hurry up. I fully intended to "get a move on" before she made a mad dash from the shower and while washing down with scentless soap I now give new credence to the mailman theory.

I give her a choice and she selects the Viper. I will pack the Equalizer climber on my back. There is no choice regarding the Excaliburs. She always uses the Phoenix. For a moment I think about taking the Exocet with me but decide against it. This is her hunt. I will not need a weapon. We walk side by side down our long driveway and turn and walk south the quarter mile down to Doc's driveway. It is pitch black and the mist has now turned into a steady drizzle. When we enter the woods off Doc's driveway on the path to the funnel both of us turn on our green little LED flashlights.

She goes right to the big Ash tree and hooks up the Viper climber with practiced ease. I select a good sized Red Oak some twenty-five yards behind the Ash and set up the Equalizer. I notice when I am half way up the Oak that she is already in place and has pulled up the Phoenix and placed it in the holder attached to the stand. It always amazes me how quickly and effortlessly she climbs. She is just a smidge over sixty and yet she has retained her trim athletic body and long honed coordination. Other then brute strength, this little one hundred and thirty pound woman is my superior physically in every aspect. As I reach the twenty-five foot mark on the Red Oak I make a mental note to have a talk with our mailman.

We sit in the darkness for the next fifty minutes. The drops of rain drip off the hood of my camo rain suit and I make an obscene gesture in her direction full well knowing the darkness is hiding my bravery. I surmise I might be receiving a return gesture in the dark as she probably knows I have flipped her off. I don't know how she knows these things. I just know that she somehow does. Women have a sixth sense about these things that husbands will never understand.

There is activity at first light. It is much the same as the time I spent at the funnel the very first hunt. The deer are hitting the White Oaks and hardly twenty minutes goes by that we do not see deer. At eight forty we see our first buck. At eight forty and ten seconds we see our second. The first is Boy George, a buck we have known for the past four years. The second is Annie's buck.

We named Boy George when he was just two. He was small in stature but he had style. He did not walk, he pranced. He would run around our front yard in front of all the doe's with a "look at me I'm a pretty boy" attitude. I don't know what the situation is in the animal kingdom, but everyone who ever watched this buck for any length of time would swear he was gay. George was leading Annie's buck directly through the funnel and towards us. When I finally took my eyes off the bucks and glanced over to Annie's stand she already had the Phoenix out of the holder and had it resting on the front bar of the Viper. Her eyes were riveted on the two bucks

George was up to his old tricks. He would vier off to his left only to turn quickly back to his right like he was probing his way through a mine field. Annie's buck continued to stay on the path ignoring the antics of George. They came another twenty-five yards closer when George pulled another of his "mini dashes" and bolted about fifteen yards to the right of the path. This time Annie's buck followed. They still continued towards us but now were on a path that would lead them directly to the Red Oak I was perched in. They did not waiver again and in a scant few moments George was directly behind me. I estimated any shot Annie would have at her buck would be approximately thirty-five to forty yards if he took the identical route taken by George. I looked over at Annie and she now had the Phoenix mounted and was looking through the varizone trained on her buck. I looked back to her buck who was indeed traveling the route blazed by George. I turned now to look where George was and when I looked to the left of the tree holding my stand I saw him at twenty yards. And he was looking directly at me. Busted!

He stomped his foot once and this brought Annie's buck to an immediate halt. I looked over at Annie and the Phoenix was no longer mounted. She was looking directly at me with an expression that said "the buck may be out of my range but you certainly are not." Boy George stomped one more time and bolted back towards Annie's buck exhibiting his best prancing mule deer impersonation. With that Annie's buck turned and quickly bounded thirty yards back the way he came, stopped, and looked back towards the Red Oak that held me. Both bucks stared in my direction for the next few seconds and then as if on cue, both slowly turned and walked back and through the funnel.

It was over. Her best chance at her buck was history. We both sat in silence for the next fifteen minutes before she motioned she was going to climb down. By the time I reached the base of the big Oak she already was down and had the Viper lashed together with the holding straps. We walked silently back to Doc's driveway, turned and headed back towards our house. The light rain continued to fall and seemed most appropriate for the mood.

"I can't help but think if I had not tagged along this morning that you would have had a shot at your buck," I half whispered as we pulled the damp camo rain clothes off in the small mud room by the garage. "Don't ve silly vie ver in this together" she replied quickly. "I blame dat dern Boy George fer the entire ting," she hissed. I smiled at her and silently thanked her for letting me off the hook. "I vil be takin a hot shower to take der chill off," she said as she walked out of the mud room. "Vil you be joinin me," she asked knowing she would not need to hear the reply. As I continue to strip off the damp camo I consider what I must do to put this buck under her stand. It is going to be more difficult now

As I head to the shower I mentally review locations where I might be able to place one of the trail cams to best put our mail box in frame.

[NewGuy]

Welcome back Mike, it's been way too long. Another fantastic read.

[one shot scott]

You story creates a great mental image. I cant help but laugh at the mental picture of Boy George prancing about I sure hope the season ends with the Mrs getting her buck.

[OkXbowHunter]

Thanks for sharing these stories. I've enjoyed both a great deal. I can't wait for the follow up! Good luck to both of you getting that buck!

[Doe Master]

I must have a good imagination because I can picture the whole scenario as if it is a video on TV .
Excellent story telling Mike .
I hope Annie gets her buck !!
Might be an idea to take Boy George out of the gene pool . I don`t think you want those genes being passed on .

[vixenmaster]

Thx fer the 2nd episode of Annie's Buck, durn smarty Boy George!

[Normous]

As stories go, this one is like most. It has a beginning, middle and an end. .

The middle is getting interesting. Funny how Boy George was able to pick you out so easily, I wonder why??
Anyway, you have plenty of time to pick the next stand location. In the end we will see that you have chosen the location well and Annie connects.

[FJB]

Sure glad you back posting Mike. Thank you for the riviting storys. I hope that Annie will get another crack at her buck! Cheers to the both of you!

[gerald strine]

I loved your story.

[sumner4991]

Thanks Mike P.

[CDN Taxman]

Hey Mike,

I'm new here but I shadowed this site for quite some time before you left. I have to say, I love reading your stories.....can't wait for the wifey to connect and be reunited with "her" deer!

Mike

[FredBear]

Mike, I just got done talking to Kenton, about how much harder it is to kill a mature buck when he hangs with another mature buck. This is why! It's so much more than another set of eyes.Its all the crafty traits a 4 1/2 year old buck picks up times two. Boy George is even worse with his need for attention. He gets the attention, and keeps Annies bucks even more alert than he would normally be. Your on a fine line here. The bucks will be going there seperate ways soon, and the Oak showers are soon to dry up. Causing them to change there patterns. Now that you have gave them a heads-up for the funnel. You fight old father time, on how soon to go back in. Of course I'm sure you have played all these questions, and 1,000's more through your head today! I have full faith that you will know when, and where to move your next pawn. Thanks for ANOTHER great story! Can't wait for the next one.

[lscha]

You had me laughing, again. Thanks for part 2 and waiting for more about Annies 'Lucky Buck'

[Pydpiper]

That was some good stuff!
Must have read part one too fast, I was sure she nailed him.

[sumner4991]

That was some good stuff!
Must have read part one too fast, I was sure she nailed him.

You did read it too fast . . .she didn't nail her big buck till the end of the second story . . .I think.