By Brent Fox
The author and his father pose with the younger Fox's 2008 buck.
-- My dad took me on my first deer hunt when I was 4 years old. I was all set up with my little bow and arrows with suction cup tips. I was ready to take the big one!
As we were leaving that evening, my dad spotted a doe bedded down in the field. Dad, knowing that my little bow would not be able to kill or even injure her, said I should take a shot at her.
“I think I can take her,” I answered.
We crawled to within 50 yards or so, and I took the shot. To my dismay, the arrow didn’t even come close. My shot was so far short that the doe didn’t even run away. She just raised her tail, looked at us and stomped for a minute or two before slowly walking away.
Nevertheless, I was hooked on deer hunting. From that moment on, hunting has been my life.
My dad and I have been hunting together for the last 19 years now. I am currently a student at Miami University of Ohio, and I make the drive back home any chance I get to go out in the woods with my dad.
We always hunt from treestands in the woods or from a tripod out in the field. Somehow, my dad always gets his deer before I do, and then he volunteers to drive for me until I get one.
This past year was a little bit different. I got my deer before my dad. For the first time, I did a drive to him.
My first drive didn’t produce anything; he didn’t even see a deer. After that, we formulated a game plan that set my dad up on a funnel. I would walk though a few bedding areas toward him.
The next time I also took my dog, Coale, and that did the trick. We jumped an 8-point buck and a doe that were bedded down. My dad made a good shot, and the 8-pointer dropped in its tracks.
Even though I wasn't even carrying a weapon, that hunt will be one I'll never forget.
I just wanted to say thanks, Dad, for all those deer you put in my lap. I was more than happy to return the favor!
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