Memories, huh? How about my first deer? Every time I tell this story people think I'm the biggest liar they ever saw. Maybe I am, but this story is 100% true.

I hunted five years before I found a deer silly enough for me to tag. This little forkie whitetail just stood and stared at me from 25 yards away. I upped my rifle and fired - miss! I bolted in the next round and that buck never moved, other than to bob his head as the bullet whizzed past. I fired again - another miss, another head bob, buck's still just standing there. I jacked in the next round and fired - killed him dead, broke his neck aiming behind his shoulder. (I didn't do much shooting in those days.)

So now I gotta dress this deer. He's laying in a mess of brush, so I need to snake him out into the open to get at him. I layed my rifle down and reached down to grab a hind leg. When I touched that leg it triggered a reflexive kicking response. POWWWWW! He caught me flush in the family jewels, and I mean flush! Now I'm rolling around on the ground in agony. As the agony fades to merely excruciating I start praying please Lord don't let another hunter come along now, this could be hard to explain. Nobody came along, the pain faded in a few minutes, and I stood up loaded in round number four and made darn sure that sucker was dead. Shot him in the head, I did. Served him right, too. To this day though, I think he got the last laugh.

I was a teenager then, and full of testosterone. So, it took me a while to get around to telling the true story of my deer.