I remember slapping my Dad's leg because I could see him coming down the hill and was so excited. I remember Dad telling me to get into position and he helped me pull my mitten/gloves off. I knew where the target spot was and I knew not to lift my head after I shot. I remember asking Dad if I could shoot him and getting the go ahead. I remember his front leg snapping up and him running. I asked Dad if I had shot him and he chuckled, patted me on the back and said I had.
It was November 17th. I will never forget it. Where we were, what we did and how excited I was to get my first deer. He weighed in at 111lbs. The biologist at the tagging station took a tooth and I think some blood. He estimated that he was about 2 years old.
When I stopped by my parent's house this weekend, I found this:
My Dad had had the small spikes mounted for me! I had no idea he was doing this and I can not tell you how much it means to me that he did. I think we will do the same thing with my other antlers.
I can't wait to start my 10th season hunting with Dad! Just a few more weeks!