I told my doggie if the sun came out, I was going hunting and started changing clothes..
Sun came and I got up a tree. 3:50, popped a small doe. Dropped her and she flopped once-60-yard shot in a thicket. Climbed down and walked up there. No doe. Blood absolutely everywhere and a trail I followed at a fast walk. Over one fence. Half circle over second fence and back on me. Over third fence an onto a 4-acre plot belongs to a guy who apparently raises Rotweilers and old cars.
See the doe. Graveyard dead. Landowner is standing over her with his son who appears to be about 30 and bathes on odd numbered years. We howdy and he says, (not kidding) “I seent her jump the fence and fall down but I can’t figure out the blood. I reckon you must have shot her some time?”
I reckoned and I had and had been blood trailing her off my property onto his. “Oh that’s fine, I don’t keer. Boy aint she fat. That looks like some more good eatrin.”
I agreed and said I was worn out from trailing her. “Boy aint she some fat I bet that right there will be some good eatrin.”
Light bulb. “Mister,” says I, “would you like to have this doe?”
Well you can bet he would so I shooken his hand and comed home.
She was hit in the front shoulder and out through the brisket. I have no idea how she went that far. I estimate she went 300-yards and over three fences. They are tough old critters but boy, I bet she will be some good eatin. That makes number seven for the year, five does and two that weren't.