Tuesday, August 6, 2013


I guess a lot of hunters now use some sort of deer stand. My uncle, years ago -- over several seasons -- managed to fill his deer tag on a regular basis.

Some hunters use a tree stand. Others use a stand on the ground that is camouflaged.

My uncle had a different type of stand, if you can call it that. It seems that his "stand" was a fallen tree, or stump, or even a rock. You see, he had a urge. Of the bathroom type. He had to do a number two. He would find a nice spot, drop his pants, and commence to do what he had to do.

The first time, as he was doing his duty, a nice 4-point buck (aka 8-point to those of you from the East side of our country)  just happened to walk around the stump that my uncle was using. My uncle dropped the buck, did his paper work, then proceeded to field dress his deer.

The following season he had just dropped his drawers and was just starting to set on a log when this deer came up the trail. My uncle shot the deer. After he finished his paper work and field dressed his deer, he left his rifle leaned up against a tree and left. He couldn't find his rifle the next day when he remembered to go back for it.

A season or two later, while I was hunting, I saw what I thought was a stick that looked like a rifle. It even looked like it had a scope on it. As I got closer, I saw that it was indeed a rifle! It was the rifle my uncle had left. It was rusted up pretty good. and you could see where some critter --or critters -- had gnawed on the stock in several places. The scope was trashed.

After I was done hunting and had filled my tag, I took this rifle to my uncle back in town. Before giving it to him, I asked if he remembered losing it a few seasons back. He said that he did, and that he had borrowed it from his father, who didn't know he had taken it. 

My uncle cussed a blue streak and said that the old man had made him pay for the rifle. My uncle was teed off about it. I asked him if there was a reward for whomever found the rifle. And he said,  "hell no!", it was gone for good.

Well, I gave the rifle to him just as his dad walked in. His dad knew the rifle right away and proceeded to ream my uncle a new one again. I left quickly.

For years, we gave my uncle a razzing about how he got some of his deer. We said he cheated in getting those deer by using his white butt cheeks and farting to attract them. We said he burned the deer noses from the smell so bad that they could no longer smell him, that the deers' eyes were watering so badly that they couldn't see him. The teasing got bad.

We told the local game warden that my uncle was using chemicals to get his deer. And then we told him about my uncle's history of how we got his deer. The game warden, knowing my uncle, played right along. He said that he was going to cite my uncle for blinding game by using his lily- white butt to do it. The warden said it was just like spotlighting the animals.

I am not using my uncle's name here because he is still around. Even though he is up there in age, he remembers and he might be a bit peeved that I told on him.

Oh well.


  1. Neat hearing about your uncle, sounds like old guys who used to come in the barber shop when I was growing up.

  2. Great story! I've enjoyed hunting up high up in the tree, the climb up, with the rungs covered with ice, not so much.


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