It finally happened

Well, this year was the magic year. It finally happened. My husband killed his first deer during the November firearms deer season.

I know what you are thinking. We live in Southeast Missouri. Is it really such a big deal that he got a dear?

My husband is 30 years old. He has been a religious deer hunter right here in Southeast Missouri for the past decade (probably longer, that's just how long I've known him). In all that time, he hasn't even hit a deer with a vehicle.

And it's not that he doesn't try. The poor guy gives it everything he's got each year in his pursuit to finally get a deer. His persistence alone should earn him awards.

Each year it's the same thing. He arises hours before dawn and dresses himself in clothes that have been washed and dried in special scent killer and then left to sit outdoors in the woods behind our home.

He slips on his coveralls and his sock hat, grabs a pair of gloves and hops in his truck. He drives out to his pre-determined hunting spot and finds himself a secluded spot to sit and wait for dawn.

And he waits … and waits … and waits. Finally, around noon, he will give up and come home for something hot to eat and to catch a few hours of nap time. Then he's back out in the woods before 4 p.m.

And it doesn't matter how many signs there are of deer in the area he is hunting in. There can be scrapes and droppings and hoof-prints. But when my husband takes up his watch, the deer are nowhere to be found.

I have to tell you, I have gone with my husband more than a few times on these hunting excursions. It is my opinion that the deer are making fun of him. They are standing back in the shadows laughing at this guy who just won't quit.

They mock him. And there are times that I just don't think it's fair.

Now, mind you, I find the whole sport of deer hunting kind of sad. I well know that without these hunting seasons, deer would overpopulate and end up killing themselves. I know that. I just think that hunting has become more about bagging a trophy than what it was originally intended for.

I think it's sad when a man or woman goes out into the woods with the express purpose of shooting the animal with the biggest rack they can find.

To kill such a majestic animal that has managed to survive countless deer seasons and has proven himself to be one of the toughest and smartest of the species is just tragic.

But, I digress. Sorry.

Anyway, as the years have progressed and my husband has come home empty-handed, I have gotten just a little bit more perturbed with the deer. When a 7-year-old can walk out in the woods and manage to get a deer and my husband, with all of his dedication, can't … you know they have to be mocking him.

But, like I mentioned earlier, he got his deer this year. He bagged a six-point buck that wasn't huge, but was fairly good size. And the fact that he got a deer THIS year goes against all laws of nature.

First because this was the worst deer harvest in recent years. A bumper crop of acorns meant that deer had to move less and travel farther to find the food they needed. So, in one of the worst possible years, my husband get his deer.

The second, and most important reason that this kill defied all laws of nature, was that my husband took my sister's fiancé into the woods with him this year. That wouldn't be anything unusual except that my sister's fiancé has attention deficit disorder (ADD).

Which means, he can't sit still for very long. And you hunters out there know what I'm talking about. Taking a person with ADD into the woods to go deer hunting is much like taking a child into FAO Schwarz and expecting to leave the store without buying anything.

But, Corey really wanted to go and my husband didn't have the heart to say no. Needless to say, things didn't go very smoothly. Poor Corey just couldn't be still or quiet for long -- in fact, the only time he was able to stay really quiet and still was when he fell asleep in the woods.

On the morning of the kill, Jimmy (my husband) and Corey had already been in the woods for hours. Jimmy told me he was about to give up and come back home. Corey was up talking loudly and walking around.

Corey jumped up on a fallen tree and started to bounce up and down while talking to Jimmy. Then, all of a sudden, Corey stiffened and became quiet. Jimmy turned to look at him and when he did, Corey very quietly and slowly pointed behind Jimmy and said that he saw a deer.

With all the noise that Corey had been making, to say that Jimmy didn't believe him is an understatement. To put it nicely, Jimmy thought Corey was full of crap.

It was when the talk of a $100 bet came up that Jimmy finally began to believe Corey. He turned around and there stood a six-point buck munching away on something in the leaves.

Considering the noise that Corey had been previously making, I believe it was the fact that Corey finally got quiet that scared the deer. In less than a minute after Corey quit talking and jumping around, that deer knew something was up.

And just as that deer was turning to run off into the woods, Jimmy finally accomplished a goal he had been striving for the past 10 years to achieve.

When he got home, I was still in bed (yes, I laze about the mornings in bed … what can I say, I hate mornings) and he rushed into the bedroom and yelled that he had a deer outside in his truck.

In order to understand my skepticism, you have to understand that my husband thinks it is funny to tell everyone he got a deer just to see us rush outside. It makes him laugh (maybe the deer weren't wrong to mock him after all).

So, I told him that if I went out there and the back of that truck was empty -- or if he had tied branches to our mastiff's head and had him lay down in the back of the truck like he was threatening he was going to do -- that I quite simply was going to kill him.

But 'lo and behold, there in the truck was an actual deer. After I heard the story about how the deer was found and subsequently killed, I was left shaking my head. If I had known that all it took for my husband to get a deer was him taking someone with him guaranteed to drive him crazy, I would have sent Corey with him a long time ago.

Of course, if that had happened, then I wouldn't be able to look back on the past decade and say with a sigh of relief that it finally happened.

Sacha Champion may be reached via e-mail at schampion@dailystatesman.com