Do you like to hunt? Well, I do! It runs in my family. Every year, towards the end of September, deer season opens. I went hunting for my first time on a snowy day in November of 2007. It was my first time deer hunting. It takes a lot of practice. You can’t just pick up your bow or gun and head to the woods, thinking you know exactly what you’re doing. You have to put a lot of effort and practice into it. My dad had me outside just about every day shooting targets to get some practice in. Speaking of my dad, he’s a cool guy. Most of the time he can be a push over. My dad and my brother Josh got me interested in hunting. Josh thinks he’s funny, but he’s not. We argue every now and then, but for the most part, we get along. He helps me out when it comes to hunting. He’ll help get my bow or guns sighted in and fix any arrows that I break. I really appreciate all their help because it helped me a lot on my first time out. This hunting trip brought me and my dad much closer together, and I wasn’t expecting to get what I got on that November night.

It was a snowy November day in 2007. I awoke late that morning to the warmth of my comforter and heater. I could smell the bacon sizzling on stove. The first thing that came into mind was the excitement for that night. I was optimistic that I was going to get a deer. I spent the hours before it was time to leave, watching National Lampoons Christmas Vacation. I nervously sat on the couch trying to relax while watching Griswold try to get the Christmas lights hung on the house. Every ten minutes I would look at the clock, 1:10, 1:20, 1:32, 1:40... It seemed like the time was crawling! I couldn’t help but wait for two-thirty to come along. “Fifty more minutes,” I said to myself.

Finally the clock hit two-thirty. I got up, threw the popcorn bag with the few kernels away, and sped into the garage, and began getting ready for the next five hours I was about to spend in the woods. I layered up on clothes, preparing for twenty degree weather. I had on two pairs of sweat pants, camo pants, two long sleeve shirts, a sweat shirt, camo coat, a hat, face make, three pairs of socks, boots, gloves, and hand warmers in my pocket. Woahh, That’s a lot! I looked like an Eskimo by the time I was done.

When we arrived at the spot we were hunting, I was amazed by what I saw. I took a look around; I saw an amazing winter wonderland. The trees were covered with snow glistening like diamonds. The ground was covered in white puffy cotton balls. I think to myself that this is going to be a good, very good night.

Dad, Josh, and I began walking to our spot in the woods. We folded out a few chairs and all sat together in a group. We quietly and patiently waited. Every few minutes we would hear a crack in the woods, thinking it’s a deer, we would look back to find that it’s just a chipmunk or squirrel. I sat there picking the pink finger nail polish off my nails; I had nothing else to do. Then I heard my dad’s voice whisper, “do not move!” I stopped, sat and listened, not moving an inch. I was a statue.

There was a herd of deer in the field about fifty yards away. Five does. They all walked around scrounging for food. A few minutes later, another doe came sprinting from the woods as if she was spooked. The wind whistled loudly. The trees shook, hitting their branches together. A minute after the doe ran out, a nice bodied, eight point basket buck approached the field.

When I saw the buck, I was stunned. I didn’t know what to think or do. Finally, the buck put his head down to scour through the snow for food. So dad whispered, “get your gun ready!” You could hear the nervousness in his voice. I just thought to myself, “I got to get him, dad would be so proud.”

Dad hit the deer call. The deer’s head flew up. I had the center dot of the scope aimed at him about an inch above the shoulder because he was a distance away. I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. BOOM! The deer ran about forty yards, and then we heard a crash, telling us that the deer is down!

I anxiously got up and walked to the field. When I got to where the deer was standing, it looked like a murder scene. I followed the blood path a few yards, stopped, looked up, and there it was. I gave dad a thumbs up to signal him that the deer was down, and my face was glowing as bright as the sun. I tapped the buck with the end of my gun to assure he wasn’t just wounded, and then I got down and held up the antlers. Dad and Josh came and patted me on the back and said good job. I’ve never seen them, especially Josh, so proud of me. There could have been tears in my dad’s eyes.

I knelt down with the deer and smiled for the camera. The excitement and joy going through my head was undescribable. I was still shaking at the time. I didn’t know I would be so excited to shoot a deer. We took him to my grandparents, my dad’s friend Danny, and my family and neighbors to show them. They we’re proud of me as well. I just couldn’t wait to get him hung on my wall.

Within in the next few days, we took the head to the taxidermist to get it mounted and went back to pick it up about six months later. Now, three years later, the deer is still hung on the wall and every time I look at him, the memories of that night return. This year, I will try to relive that memory.

I never expected to get a nice buck that night, but it brought my dad and I much closer together. I never thought I would have the guts to shoot a deer, but as a hunter, I was proud of myself and now I know I’ll always have that memory to tell other generations. I gained a lot of respect for my dad and brother because they weren’t jealous, they were proud of me and without them, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I didn’t think my brother would really care that I got one, but he did. He told me good job and had spread the word to his friends. I’ll never forget that memorable 2007, November night.