I was really hoping for a “grinder” mature doe during the early antlerless season and JOY filled the bill, with 28 minutes to spare.
J: Jesus First : I doubled down here, attending our local church in the late morning (following a quick , deerless, early morning hunt, then adult Sunday School.
O: Others Second: when I got home from Sunday School, I knocked off a heck of a Honey-do list for my wife. When I got over to my parents place, they had an even larger bunch of tasks for me to do. I did all that they asked and then some.
Y: Yourself Last: I was way later than I wanted to be in my back tree stand. I thought for sure that I had picked the wrong one again (as I had the Saturday prior), when I got up there and noted that my dad had mowed the clover plot down to a short stubble during the week.
I was even more sure that I had, when I heard the old boss doe that I was after, snorting at my scent stream, about 50 yards into the thick downwind cover.
I had pulled off my face mask, that was holding back the skeeters, and all but given up at sunset. Just then I heard the unmistakable sound of hoof steps in the upwind goldenrod. JOY stepped out, about 50 yards away, and began to feed her way closer along a narrow strip of taller clover that my dad had missed along the back hedge row.
I cranked my old Redfield magnification up to max (7X) and made damn sure there were no buttons on her head. Then I settled the crosshairs on the back lower corner of her inboard shoulder blade (I did not want to track and gut in the dark).