MA muzzleloader, New Year’s Eve, 120 lb doe.
Shot her with two hours left in the season on a stand behind my house. I was leaning against a bull pine watching a piece of thick woods. A skim of crusty snow made walking ill advised. She came from the left at a trot, maybe 25 yards out. Stopped behind some dense underbrush for a couple of long seconds and then stepped out into the spot I was scoping. 25 yards broadside, separated the atria from the heart. She ran 15 yards, dead on her feet.
Must have been my payback for picking up trash in the woods all season.
Fitting bambi’s mommy in the back of a three door Yaris hatchback was a trick, sorta resembled a mob hit or something.












