livbucks

I told this story last year, and don't really like to retell this particular one, but you asked for it.
A couple years ago, I was sitting in my stand one morning, and the call of nature came and demanded an answer. I tried to hold it but there was NO way it was working. It came to an ultimatum where I was either going to get down and answer the call, or the call was going to end up in my camo pants. I climbed down as fast as I could and went running down the trail. I got about 15 yards from my tree and was faced with the act of going right there or going in my pants. I barely got my britches pulled down and away she went, all over the trail. I was upset that I just ruined my spot. I covered it somewhat, the best I could, but you could tell from the smell that something bad just happened there. I went down to the house for lunch and reluctantly returned to the stand a couple days later to hunt it. The biggest buck I ever saw or shot an arrow at came down the same trail, walked over the exact spot I messed, and came to me. I subsequently missed him (shaving white belly hair, but no wound) because of deflection. He never acted the least bit concerned with the bad mess I made though. He was a very big 11 point. To add insult to my bad shooting, he stepped back and smelled my arrow sticking in the dirt and then walked off, only running when I tried to nock another arrow and saw me move. I know I missed him clean because there was no fat or blood or anything whatsoever on the arrow. The only souvenier of our encounter was a little pile of white belly hair that I cut off when the arrow passed under him.