A guy my Dad knew, a tree climber by trade and big and solid like Paul Bunyan, shot a doe. He confidently walked up and straddled the doe to gut it without checking for deadness. The doe jumped up so, by reflex or stupidity, or both, "Paul Bunyan" grabbed the thing in a bear hug and starts to wrestle it. The little doe beat the livin pi$$ out of the lumberjacka$$ and put him in the hospital with lacerations to his abdomen and broken ribs.
MORAL: CHECK FOR DEADNESS!