THE DEER HUNT

  I'm not sure what you would call the following little bit of information on deer hunting. Not a poem. Almost more of a story. My dad got it from another hunter a long, long time ago. He always had a copy to give to someone that wanted it. I am posting it here and hope it makes everyone have as good a laugh as my dad and I always had about it. He never had this happen to him but he did have some strange happening on some of his deer hunts. 

THE DEER HUNT

2:30 am Alarm Clock Rings.

3:00 am Hunting pardner arrives, drags you out of bed.

3:15 am Throw everything except the kitchen sink in the truck.

3:30 am Leave for deer woods.

3:45 am Drive back home and pick up the gun.

4:00 am Drive like hell to get to the woods before daylight.

5:15 am Set up camp. Forgot the damn tent.

5:45 am Head into woods.

6:05 am See 8 deer.

6:06 am Take aim and squeeze trigger.

6:07 am “Click”

6:08 am Load gun while watching deer run over the hill.

8:00 am Head back to camp.

9:00 am Still looking for camp.

10:00 am Realize you don’t know where camp is.

Noon Fire gun for help ------- eat wild berries.

12:15 pm Ran out of bullets ----- 8 deer go by.

12:20 pm Strange feeling in stomach.

12:30 pm Realize ate poison berries.

12:45 pm Rescued!!!

12:55 pm Rushed to hospital to have stomach pumped.

3:00 pm Arrive back at camp.

3:30 pm Leave camp to kill deer.

4:00 pm Return to camp for bullets.

4:01 pm Load gun. Leave camp again.

5:00 pm Empty gun at squirrel that is bugging you. Squirrel runs away.

6:00 pm Arrive back at camp. See deer grazing in camp.

6:01 pm Load gun.

6:02 pm Fire gun.

6:03 pm One dead pickup truck.

6:05 pm Hunting partner arrives back at camp dragging deer.

6:06 pm Repress the strong desire to shoot partner.

6:07 pm Fall into fire.

6:10 pm Change clothes – throw burned ones in fire.

6:15 pm Take pickup --- leave partner and his deer in woods.

6:25 pm Pickup boils over ---hole shot in block.

6:26 pm Start walking.

6:30 pm Stumble and fall --- drop gun in mud.

6:35 pm Meet bear.

6:36 pm Take aim.

6:37 pm Fire gun ----blow up barrel --- plugged with mud.

6:38 pm Shit pants!

6:39 pm Climb tree.

9:00 pm Bear departs. Wrap #*%& gun around tree.

Midnight Home at last!!!

Sunday ---- Watch football game on TV, slowly tearing up licence into little pieces, place in envelop and mail to Game Warden with very clear instructions on where to place it!!!

In Reply

 

In Reply

In reply to your request to send a check, or Credit Card number,

I wish to inform you that the present condition of my bank account

makes it almost impossible. My shattered financial condition is due to federal laws, estate laws, county laws, city laws, corporation laws, mother-in-laws, brother-in-laws, sister-in-laws and outlaws.

Through these laws, I am compelled to pay a business tax, amusement tax, head tax, school tax and excise tax. I am required to get a business license, car license, operators license, truck license, not to mention a marrage and dog license.

I am required to contribute to every society and organization which the genius of man is capable of bringing to life; to woman’s relief, unemployed relief, and gold diggers relief. Also to every hospital and charitable institution in the city, including the Salvation Army, Community Chest, Red Cross, Purple Cross, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, Heart Fund, Polio Fund, YMCA and the YWCA.

My business is so governed that it is no easy matter to find out who owns it. I am inspected, expected, suspected, dis-respected, rejected, dejected, examined, informed, required, summoned, fined, commanded and compelled, until I provide an inexhaustible supply of money for every known need, desire or hope of the human race.

Simply because I refuse to donate to something or other, I am boycotted, talked about, lied about, help up, held down, and robbed until I am almost ruined.

But I thank you for your consideration.

Author Unknown

The Land Out West

                   

                        The Land Out West

 There’s a land out west that’s hot and dry.

I come from this land and that’s where I’ll die.

The land is full of cactus and thorns,

It used to have cattle with long, long horns.

The saguaro stood twenty feet tall.

So come to this land, come to stay.

Come and see the close of day.

See the saguaro standing high.

See the sun in the blue, blue sky.

See the roadrunner in the desert sand,

Come, I say, Come to this land.

Sarah Barnett

This poem was written by my sister a long time ago. But it is still true today. Oh, how I miss the deserts and mountains of the southwestern states, especially my home state of New Mexico. That said - the saguaro she wrote about like the ones in the photo below do not grow anywhere but in southern Arizona. This was a photo I took a couple of years ago when she and I made a short road trip to where the saguaro grow.