My wife is from “Big City” Southern California. I know there’s not literally a place called that, but that is where she was from, a “Big City” in Southern California. I say “was” because it’s by the Grace of God we are not who we once were, Amen?

It was quite a culture shock, as I’m sure she will attest when we moved to Wyoming after my service in the U.S. Navy. We were new parents with a two-year old, starting our new lives in the “Middle of Nowhere” Wyoming. All I knew for sure was that I could make it there so that’s where we went.

Part of “making it” in my mind was being a “manly man” and living off the land. So that’s what we did. No I didn’t have my family living in a shack in the woods or a dug-out in a creek bank, though even now that does sound like fun, for at least a week or two, maybe. To me living off the land meant getting your sustenance, as much as possible, from the natural environment and that entailed getting a hunting license.

In Wyoming the Department of Wildlife used to send the leftover tags to retail agents in those areas the tags were issued for. So we were at the door of our local “Stage Stop” store when they were to go on sale. There were two people in line ahead of us when we got there and four more showed up after we did.

When the owner showed up to open the store he said, “Sorry folks, two of the lope tags are mine.” And then seeing me standing in line he added, “Ya’ll probably should’ve gotten here before him.” Pointing at me.

The folks in front of us purchased a deer and lope tag a piece and when we got to the counter I asked what he had.

“I got three deer and four antelope left.”

“I’ll take em all.” I looked behind me and said, “Sorry folks. I’ve been out of town for seven years and my wife has never hunted.”

You might be saying, “Three deer and four antelope, what are you feeding an army?” When one eats meat such as I do, with family and friends over for meals or giving it away to those who don’t/can’t hunt, I can say, “Yes, I do feed a small army at times.”

Wife’s First Hunting Adventure

It wasn’t really an adventure aside from the fact that my wife had never been hunting and didn’t really know what to expect.

We let opening morning come and go. Mid-week I got home from work somewhat early and asked her if she wanted to go get a deer. “Sure!” I pulled the rifle out of the rack, a 257 Roberts I had built for Northern California deer, handed her a box of ammunition and grabbed a orange hat and away we went.

“We don’t need anything else?” she asked.

“Snacks, flashlight?” “Do you have a knife?”

“You got your tag and a rifle that’s all we need. We won’t be long.”

We trekked 12 miles up valley from home, turned north and ventured another 4 miles and we were in the hunting area. A piece of state land that covered about 5 sections of land (one section is one square mile). It had good high ground areas with a predominant draw that ran through the middle of it. Covered in sage brush, and littered with serviceberry and chokecherry the area is prime deer habitat.

It took us 20 minutes of travel time to arrive on site. We drove about a half a mile down a well service road along the draw. In that half a mile we probably saw 20 deer or more.

My wife asked, “Are they like this all the time?”

“Yep, pretty much since I was kid.”

“Which one can I shoot?”

“Which ever one you want, just say the word.”

“How about that one?”

“Nah, she’s on the other side of the draw. We’d have to drive around to retrieve it”

“How about that one?”

“She’s got fawns at her side.”

I finally eased to a stop and said, “There ya go honey! That one there, a nice yearling.”

As my wife eased out of the truck and around to my side two more deer lifted their heads above the sagebrush, another doe and a fawn. “Which one is she?” she asked. “The one on the right.”

“Is that her fawn?”

“The one on the left is the mom of both.”

A little more conversation about how you can tell who’s who and what’s what, physical cues and indicators, reading the animal’s body language and my wife was ready for business.

“Put the crosshairs right in the middle of the white patch on her throat and squeeze the trigger.”

She pulled the rifle up and took aim. “The one on the right, right?”

“Yep, that’s the one…on the right.”

The ol “Quarter Bob” gave a bark and belched out a 125 grain Partition that found its’ mark dropping the deer before my wife even realized what happened. The other doe and fawn leapt into the air and made for the bank on the far side of the draw. They stopped and turned to survey the situation.

My wife saw them come to a stop on the far side of the draw and she exclaimed, “Where did she go?”

“Down, Honey! She went down!”

Final Wisdom

Ultimately it was a “really close shot,” about 30 yards. I backed the truck up to where the deer lay and loaded her up. We headed back home and in a matter of about 50 minutes, start to finish, my wife had bagged her first deer.

Again these deer were not alarmed to our presence aside from when they looked up from their browsing (eating) there was a truck sitting there. There was no adrenaline built up in their system to taint the meat, there was no chasing them all over God’s creation, there was no trapesing across the desert suffering heat exhaustion, picking up ticks on your pant legs or getting snake bit. It was as simple as load the gun, point the gun, shoot the gun.

One may frown upon the taking of females and/or young. I’ll give you four reasons behind my hunting practices;

First is the issue of obedience, mercy and praise. The LORD commands as follows;

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“If you come across a bird’s nest in any tree or on the ground, with young ones or eggs and the mother sitting on the young or on the eggs, you shall not take the mother with the young. 7) You shall let the mother go, but the young you may take for yourself, that it may go well with you, and that you may live long.” — Deuteronomy 22.6-7

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This is a command I feel can be and should be obeyed. It embodies the principle of mercy that should be exercised in our dominion over God’s creation. At the end of the command is the praiseworthy promise that through the exercise of mercy one may be blessed.

Second, species propagation. I personally believe a selective harvest method conducted throughout the entire year would be of greater benefit to wildlife management than a one time slaughter of all the species during a 6-8 week period in the fall of the year. Antelope typically rut just before and during hunting season. Elk have typically finished the rut by the time rifle season opens. Mule deer have the best chance as they don’t breed until November.

Todays current management practices of buck and bull licenses being the majority type issued for any given species and area, wildlife managers are ensuring the depletion of a good gene pool source. Selective culling of the females is as much a part of healthy herd management as is attempting to weed out bad genes by “point restrictions” of the males.

Third, winter is hard on game animals. Not only is food scarce for them but they are a primary and disadvantaged food source themselves for other animals. An adult Mountain Lion will kill one deer per week during the winter months. Add the proliferation of big cats we have in the west, due to you guessed it, wildlife mismanagement and those numbers add up pretty quick.

Despite what we were told in school and by National Geographic, predators don’t go after sick, maim and dying animals as their “primary” food source. Think about it. Do you eat food that doesn’t pass the “smell test?”

Harvesting a female with young condemns those young to death as well. Their chance of surviving the winter has just been decreased to less than 1%. By harvesting the young I choose the merciful option rather than leave them to be sacrificed to the slow, cruel starvation of Mother nature. She is a brutal witch, she has no empathy or sympathy, she is not merciful or compassionate. She cannot be trusted and most definitely should never be worshiped.

Finally, have you ever eaten meat that just melted in your mouth? Imagine a chop that didn’t require a 1 Horse Power electric knife to get through it? A roast that didn’t require the “low and slow” crockpot method to be started on Wednesday to feast Sunday after church? Or a steak you didn’t have to pound flatter than cardboard and marinate for a week before grilling? Well that’s why I harvest the young. It’s like having Filet Mignon for breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday.