A Good Deer Year

Every year when fall approaches we start to check out the oak trees to see how many acorns they are putting on. The more acorns and the earlier they fall, the better it will be for deer hunters - deer thrive on acorns and put on weight rapidly when eating them.

This year is a good deer year as far as acorns are concerned.

 The narrow snouts and nimble tongues of the white-tailed deer are perfect for picking up the acorns scattered under the broad live oak trees.  Because they can so rapidly gather the acorns from the usually sandy ground, they gain weight and go into the winter with a healthy store of fat, though in South Texas some kinds of greenery are almost always growing because winter usually lasts about two days in February.

It is not such a good year in South Texas for cows though. With their broad snouts and thick tongues, the cows pick up more dirt than acorn and end up going into the winter rail thin. Ranchers dread the years when cows start chasing acorns because it leads to financial losses for them. The less a cow weighs, the less it is worth at market. The shade from the evergreen live oak tree tends to keep the ground underneath sparsely grown with grass, so there is much dirt for the cows to lick up.

Just like everything else in life. What works for one does not work for another - and so it is with acorns. What is not a good year for ranchers, is a good year for hunters.

Deer Season - Photography

The weekend before deer hunting season's open, I staked myself  in my favorite deer blind to see what kind of wildlife was around following the drought and years since there was heavy hunting on the property. My first venture out into the pasture brought me up on the largest buck I had ever encountered on the land. Unfortunately, he startled too quickly upon my spying him for me to get a picture.

After being staked in the blind for just a few minutes, I began to see deer to the left and right of me. They were coming from everywhere, but none were remaining still enough, close enough for me to get any decent photographs. I willed them closer and closer, but none would obey my subconsicious directions.

Finally a young buck with just three points began to approach the stand. Seemingly fearless, he posed for many photos despite the camera's beeps and clicks. Had I carried a gun with me instead of a camera, I would be eating well today. Of course, I would much rather have the rack of the three other bucks I saw that evening, this one would have provided some tender, flavorful venison.

Just as the buck came along, a rabbit bounded by the stand. I attempted to snap pictures, but as with the earlier deer, it did not come stay still long enough to get a clear shot.

I could not help but think, "Bambi and Thumper - together again."

The scene did not last long as one of my parent's dogs came running out of the woods, but it did give me the opportunity to have some quiet time with the wildlife I grew up stalking with my bow, gun, and camera.

Bird Dogs

As long as I've lived in the house, I have been accustomed to the dogs bringing me presents they captured outside. To date those presents have all been mice who moved closer in as winter approached.

That chihuahuas catch mice is not really surprising. They are all at the same level and the dogs can get into the small places near them.

Today I was quite surprised to find a dead sparrow on my kitchen floor.

How chihuahuas managed to catch a bird baffles me, but they did indeed manage.

I successfully disposed of it right away and in a way that they will not be able to retrieve it in the three days that I will be out of town. The last thing I want to return to is the smell of ripened fowl.

When the dogs leave behind such a present - am I supposed to reward them or scold them? I've never quite figured that out. They seem to be quite excited about their accomplishment, but I find it hard to match their enthusiasm.

Boys Just Wanna...

Recently I’ve had several conversations about hunting and have had the craving to buy a hunting rifle. I no longer have one since I moved to Austin and sometime that time out in the wild and the adventure of hunting one’s own food is just too appealing.

The idea of it came to the forefront in the last couple weeks as the “unmentionable’s” brothers have expressed and interest in going to the air soft range near their home. Air soft was something new to me. I remember a few years ago when paint-pellet ranges and competitions were all the rage, but did not know they had been replaced by something else.

The “unmentionable” has been highly concerned about his brothers’ safety and vocally objects to there participation in this sport.

I, on the other hand, grew up in the country before even the paint guns came around. When my friends and I wanted to play war, we just broke out the b-b guns and as we got older, the pellet guns.

Since the invention of projectile weaponry, I’m convinced that boys just wannna shoot each other. It is simply a boy thing.

Growing up we were always responsible about the b-b gun wars. We knew enough to wear safety glasses as none of us wanted to put an eye out. When we graduated to pellet guns, we had the two-pump rule.

Each pump on a pellet gun increases the amount of air to project the b-b or the pellet from the gun with ten pumps being the maximum recommended by any of the manufactures. Two pumps gave a slight sting at about 25 yards - safe but effective.

Now the kids can shoot foam projectiles that far.

Because we were always careful, none of my friends lost an eye, and in fact, none of us even had a skin-break from being shot during the various gun wars. The closest call was when my brother K was shot on the cheekbone during a particularly close battle after violating the two-pump rule to shoot B through the tin wall of the barn.

Really - B never should have hidden behind the tin.

Nevertheless, after being severely stung by K’s b-b, B also violated the two-pump rule and returned fire catching K on the cheekbone just as mom turned in the driveway.

Our driveway was .2 miles long, so the shot had a chance to take great effect by the time she made it to the house. Concentric circles radiated out across K’s cheek. The b-b did not penetrate the skin, but it certainly made a spectacular bruise.

All my friends took the long way across the pasture as they fled my house.

For quite some time afterward we were limited to cow-dung wars.