Deer Feet and Dog Puke

Note: The Hayseed Files is delighted to welcome Maggie Nutter, a rancher (and great storyteller) from Sunburst, Montana. Enjoy her story--unless you're a game warden, then don't. 

We have three rules for deer hunters to follow. I don’t consider them outrageous or unmaintainable.

·         If you want to shoot a buck you must also take a doe off the hayfield (I don’t care if you have a tag or not).

·         Don’t leave anything dead lying close to the house--no guts, no fat shavings, and no body parts.

·         You must have reservations made so that there is not more than 5-6 hunters on the place during a day, and don’t expect to drive around.

My brother’s friend Dave, who had traveled in from out of state, had a good hunt and great success. He had shot a big ol’ whitetail with an enormous spread. With surgeon hands, he caped the deer head and shoulders for a mount. He hung the deer and attacked the carcass like a Samurai warrior with a brand-new Ginzu knife. He battled it and shoved the hairy hacked chunks into ziplock bags. Pieces and parts were shoved into the freezer to firm up and then transferred to the YETI cooler for the 14-hour drive home.

The next day calm settled on the homestead with the whiskey-sipping hunters’ migration home. Unfortunately, gifts had been left behind. The sweet little corgis kept bringing deer legs to the house.  Little Teddi had managed to chew half the hide off of the leg she carried and smelled of musk and blood. Like Easter, I hunted for legs and placed them in the back of the truck to be hauled away.

It was about 4 am when I woke to the “HERRRRRRRRT HERRRRRRT” of a dog emptying its belly. The odor greeting my nose confirmed this assumption. I crawled out of bed to seek out paper towels and gloves needed for removal of the deposit, but the most pressing need was to pee.

Just heading out of bathroom after relieving my bladder, I heard Kelly crashing around. Swinging open the door, I viewed Kelly in his birthday suit skating around in the newly deposited dog puke.   He had been snoring when I crawled out of bed, so I’d never considered that he would get up and experience the warm foot slide. 

During morning coffee, brother John called to say that when they took Dave’s deer to the taxidermist, he measured it and thought it would make the Boone and Crockett book of records. Dave was so excited he called and texted about 900 people before they got home.

“Well, tell Dave to enjoy it as it may be his last hunt here. He’s going to have to really make nice with Kelly before he comes back.”