Reminds me of something similar that happened in Chambers Co about 20 years ago.


I was prospecting a big creek bottom on a new club I was in just to get a feel for the land. I stalked down the creek slowly and methodically for most of the afternoon and finally about 4 pm I decided to sit and watch a long section of that creek that had some beautiful hardwoods on each side of it and I could see a lot of deer trails in various spots crossing that little creek. I sat down and got relaxed and I started hearing whimpering from an animal further down the creek. I continued to sit there and listen to the whimpering and then it just stopped. A few minutes later I hear a commotion and I see a beautiful Husky mix dog running down the creek on the other side and she was struggling. About the time she gets within 20 yards of me I see a coyote chasing her down the creek and another one not too far behind that one. I let her continue down the creek a little further so I could get the yotes in better view right across from me and then I shoulder punched the first one. The other one decided he didn't want that pup as bad as he thought he did so he did a 180 and kicked on the afterburners. I watched him through my scope run back the way he came and then he decided he wanted to cross the creek about 200 yards down. When he made that decision he stopped for a split second to figure out his best course and when stopped I put one right in his dome. I stand up and look for the pup and she's long gone. I sit back down with the plan of sitting there until it got dark knowing nothing would come by due to the shooting but just wanting to enjoy the evening before I had to go home. About 20 min went by and i hear a stick break behind me and glanced over my shoulder and there was that young Husky mix walking towards me with her head down and tail tucked between her legs. I called to her and she picked up the pace and came straight to me. I petted her a little bit and told her it was ok and she laid down beside me and put her head on my leg. When it got time to go I got up and she followed me to the truck. She didn't have a collar on and I stopped and asked some of the few local houses if she belonged to them and she didn't. I took her home and she lived with me for a while and then my sister took her and she stayed with her until she died of old age. The kids named her Lucky.

2 good stories Sasquatch and BC

I was bow hunting a creek bottom about mile from big ag field. I had hiked in early about 1pm and setup on some white oaks. About 3 the does started coming in to feed on the acorns but I waiting on a buck because it's to far to the truck to be shooting a doe. I have seen about 30 does by 4:30 when something moved off the ridge and all the deer spooked out. I never could get a good look at what was on the ridge but what I saw looked like a big cat. I waited until dark and no more deer came in so I climbed down and packed up everything. I start walking out and I'm sure I can hear something following me but when I stop I can't hear it. As I start up the hill I am sure now that I am being followed and I have my climber on my back with my bow in one hand and an arrow and dim flashlight in the other hand. Every time I stop it stops. This is a good 25-30 min hike out so by half way I'm freaking out. I stop and yell a few times but it keeps following me. When I'm about 200 yards from the truck I go into a full sprint and drop my stand at about 100 yards. When I get to the truck I get it unlocked and I know I have cheated death and jump in a slam the door and that's when I figure out what it is. My pull up rope had fallen out of my pack and was dragging behind me. I went back the next day and got my stand. It took a long time before I could hunt that bottom again.

I was going through some storms in my life about 15yrs ago and had a rough stretch when things really went south.....I hadn't hunted much at all the early part of the season in Louisiana because of dealing with some of the tough storms....I just decided I was going to go hunting in early December just to get in the woods and to clear my head....it was hot and muggy that morning, but I decided I was going anyway just because I knew being in the woods would give me some peace, even for a short period of time....I got in my stand at about 0630 and decided to do some blind calling, didn't think anything would be moving in the warm weather.....I set for about 20 minutes and looked over my right shoulder and the biggest buck I had ever seen on my lease was standing about 30 yds from me, he had came up out of a pine plantation and crossed a small creek. All I could do was look at that moment....he started walking away and I let him get to the tree land about 50 yds away before I called again and he turned broadside and looked back, I had the crosshairs on him the entire time he was walking away....I made a good shot and saw him run into the timber and then he just disappeared. I waited about 30 minutes and went to the place where I shot him and didn't find any blood at all....I started the slow walk in the direction I last saw him and walked another 20yds and there he was, it was a big 11pt that scored right at 140, still my biggest buck to date....I was so thankful for that deer because of the joy it gave me to harvest it when I was going through those tough times..............

I did that one time.

I didn't kill a healthy deer though. I wounded one in a flooded cutover one time. Clipped it across the back hip and went in to find it after dark. When I found it, it was wounded, but very much alive, We literally fought to the death in hip-deep water and I was eventually able to cut its throat with my knife.

Win play show that story is true. It was the 2nd biggest buck I had ever killed. Live weight 185 lbs. If it was healthy, it could have killed me. It almost did so anyway.

I was literally yelling like Braveheart into the darkness as we wrestled around in the water, mud and blood. it was grunting and braying like a mule and I was stabbing it as hard as I could as many times as I could get the blade in it.

2012 Blackswamp WMA, my good buddy and I drove all night to get there.(we had taken Freddie King turkey hunting he gave us the spot). The snow was picking up my boat up off the trailer as we made our way down to the parking/ramp. We stayed up allnight and were the first to put in and broke 5” of ice to get our boat in the cut, the next truck slid all the way in on the ice and blocked everyone else out. Had the whole place to ourselves. Greenheads pouring through a stovepipe, very few things in this world more beautiful than snowcapped flooded timber

Lol.... damn. I bet that would have been a sight.

We were hunting in Benevola in 83 and my Cajun buddies would always bring guests with them when they came. One member brought a young boy about 14 who had never killed a deer and was super excited to have the chance to kill one. He was very gung-ho and we called the youngster Frank Buck because he was so excited to hunt. We were going to do a man drive across a huge section of cutover and had all the members and guests standing on the boundary line waiting on the fleeing deer. After a while, we start to hear shooting coming from several different spots on the boundary line and we knew the deer were moving. When we get to the boundary line there is Frank Buck with a bandana wrapped around his chin and blood dripping from it and blood all over his coveralls. There is a dead doe laying there where he was standing and he is about to go berserk he is so excited. Come to find out, the doe was running straight to him and he started shooting and shot all three shells he had in the gun. The doe was running right at him and he had climbed a small tree to see out into the cutover. He didn't have a climber, he just shimmied up the tree and was sitting on a limb. When the deer was almost under him he jumped out with his big knife in his mouth like a Pirate boarding a ship and landed on the deer. He began fighting with the deer, stabbing it all he could trying to kill it. The deer wound up kicking him under the chin and laid his chin wide open. In the end, Frank Buck won the battle but had to go get 13 stitches to close the gash under his chin. I sure miss those boys from Louisiana.

This was early 80's
Was on a dog drive and there were maybe 15 of us surrounding this big cutover
I hear the dogs running out several hundred yds away and theyre moving away from me when I see the buck heading over a ridge too far for me to shoot
There are a couple guys standing on the backside of that ridge where the buck is going and after he tops over the ridgeline I hear a shot
Just after the shot I hear screaming and at first it sounded like a rejoicing jubilation over a kill but it kept on and on when I realized it was a scream of pain and horror
The guy that shot was standing there with a 270 barrel resting on his foot just behind his big toe and when he saw the buck he pulled the trigger
It was a tuff go getting around that rutted out washed out road to where he was
He blew off a chunk of his foot as well as his big toe
It went in as a .277 and exited as a half dollar and blew a hole in the ground the size of a baseball

Those Cajuns are hardcore man. A buddy of mine had brought two duck hunting buddies of his who were firemen from Shreveport hunting one weekend. I got to camp late that night due to work. and when I turned down the road to our camp I saw eyes. There was a little house on the corner of that road with about a 2 acre corn field in front of it and there was a pretty good buck standing in it and a bunch of does. I drove on past and got to camp and started telling the guys about it. My buddy, who was in full host mode, always wants to impress people asked me to walk back up there to show them the deer since the old man had a couple of street lights around his little corn field and it was lit up. We were all real good buddies with the guy that owned the house and knew he wouldn't give a rip for taking a peek at his field so I thought what the heck. I mean it's not like we were going to shoot them or anything so what could a quick glance hurt? Before I know it those two Cajuns are busting rifles out of cases and fumbling for shells. I'm like..... "Hell no fellas, if we do this it's only to look, not kill. The rifles stay here". They case the guns back up and one of them grabs a machete out of his pack and the other one fishes a claw hammer out of his truck. They look at me with a big toothy grin and said "Just in case".

Thankfully the deer were gone when we slipped back up there lol.

Dang good stories - i hav used my knife on a few deer that were still pretty alive but they could not get up

Would not want to wrestle one. I had a turkey tear into my pretty good - was fortunate did not send me to hospital - sounded like a machine gun going off as its feet hit my baggy pants legs as i tried to stand on its head but could not. Finally i backed off 15 yards amd shot it again since i saw it was very much alive. 1 3/4 hooks could hav done some damage - glad all those strikes missed. People don't understand when they run to get on top of a flopper - lot of people actually go to er every year cause they dumb to what a spur on an almost dead turkey can do

Probably about ‘98 deer season I was hunting on Clear creek north of Florala. The club surrounding ours ran dogs a lot so I decided to take my shotgun with buckshot that morning. And I had my new Browning gold hunter 3 1/2” magnum and I was ready to see what that big load of buckshot would do. I slip down to the creek where the sloughs open up in the hardwood bottoms and spot a doe standing broadside probably 80-100 yards away. I knew that was a really long shot but what the heck I’ve got this big magnum lol. I take careful aim at her head and squeeze off. To my surprise she dropped where she stood! I start easing towards her and realized she is on the other side of a very fast moving swollen Clear creek. I find a log barely above the water line and get to the other side. I notice one buckshot hit her right between her eyes. I cut her throat as best I could and drug her back to the log. I had her back legs in my hands as I slowly worked my way across the log. All of a sudden this “dead” doe that hadn’t moved a muscle became very alive and just about dragged me into the raging creek. Evidently she had breathed water into her lungs and she didn’t like it. She kicked free of my grip and the creek quickly carried her downstream all the while she surfaced two or three times just like a porpoise coming all the way out of the water. I quickly got off the log and ran downstream and caught up to her. She was plenty dead by now from a combination of a buckshot between her eyes, a partially slit throat and a few gallons of inhaled water in her lungs. But I had my doe and was luckily not injured in the crazy ordeal thankfully. Learned a few lessons from that adventure.

I got one more.


I got a pretty hardcore cousin who did a tour of duty in Afghanistan....to put it mildly, death, gore, and bloodshed have never really bothered him....he has always scared the chit out of me quite honestly.

When we were kids, we all lived in the same holler where our dads grew up across a pasture from our Grandmother's home. Behind Grandmother's house was a bunch of woods, we spent alot of time here as kids.

AS kids, this is where we cut our teeth hunting squirrels, deer and coons...he had a coon dog named Dixie for many years and we had fun. unfortunately, most of it is a subdivision now....

For most of my childhood, my grandmother rented out her home to various different folks-mostly good people over the years. and grandmother herself lived in a home across town with her husband.

Anyhow, one of the renters our grandmother had for a couple of years was a family consisting of a young couple with a daughter who had some pretty prominent mental health problems. The poor girl suffered from schizophrenia, and other maniac episodes.

Well one evening, hunting behind my grandmothers house like we always do- my cousin bloodies up a doe with his shotgun pretty bad. We are right on the edge of the pasture that butts up to my grandmothers back yard and this doe struggles/flops its way around out of the woods and into the field probably 80 yards from grandmothers back porch. Me and cousin chase it out into the field where he grabs it under the chin and cuts its throat to finish it off. He is standing over this deer like some sort of serial killer when I look over at my grandmother's house and into an open bedroom window to see the young girl staring back at us- eyes as wide as backhoe tires.

The gal and I briefly make eye contact for a few seconds and I see her collapse to her bedroom floor through her window. Moments later her mother and father are hauling her out of the house to their car as she kicks and screams in terror. We heard later she spent the next several months in an institution to receive rehab. Apparently leading up to this incident she had made strives and progress with her fight for mental health... seeing cousin dispatch the deer had set her back several steps.

I still feel bad about that. It obviously wasn't intentional, but the poor girl should not have had to suffer like that. The family moved away sometime later.

Circa 1989: My best friend and I joined a club together. He at that time had a girlfriend who tagged along on most fishing trips and ended up wanting to go deer hunting that year. For some reason my buddy felt she needed to carry a gun despite the fact she wasn't leaving his side. So he borrowed a Winchester lever 30-30 from a friend, which was of questionable working order. Turned out we took my car, A luxurious Chevy citation. Well before daylight We drive down and I had him drop me off and I walked in to a cutover and setup. He was to take my car down about 2 miles further where he and his girlfriend were going to hunt. We had an agreed time of 11:00am that they would come pick me back up.

Well, 11:00am came and I heard nothing of him driving up but figured I’d walk out to a main road and wait. When I get there I see my car parked and my buddy standing alone to the side. He walks up to me with tears in his eyes and states, “there’s been an accident”. I think, ok….. I’m looking around and I don’t see the girl girlfriend anywhere. Not in the car, not standing anywhere…… oh crap. So I ask the inevitable, “What kind of accident?” He says “the 30-30 went off” My stomach now sinks….. so I ask….”and……??” He says, “I shot your car”. Me: “Ok…… where’s the girl?” She’s in the back seat laying down crying”. Me: “crying about what?” Him:” She thinks there’s going to be a fight because I shot your car”. Me: “is the car drivable?” Him: “ absolutely, the bullet went through the bottom of the passenger door panel”. Me: “Well let’s get home then”. I see the car door, which the 30-30 bullet penetrated through and through. I then start to laugh out loud as I now know we don’t have to make accidental death calls, and the reality of these two having the crap scared out of them with the gun going off in the predawn darkness, and the fears that I was going to be fighting and over this. I honestly was so glad we could drive it home and not have to walk out for help that I just laughed and smiled. I knew I would get years and years out of this story. That car had the hole in the door the day I sold it. The buyer loved the story as well.

Rest of the story: the lever him had jammed when he tried to chamber a round. He walked back the car to use the dome light. The action wasn’t closing as it should. But when it finally did…. well, you know.

This story is from my fist year hunting my place in Alabama, about 5 or 6 years ago.

I was sitting in a climbing stand one evening overlooking a crossing on a small creek. Really thick on one side and farely thick on the other. I was about 150 yards from a hiway that is usually pretty dead, but was kinda busy on this evening. I think there was a ball game in Troy or something.

Just as it was getting dark, I hear a deer coming in farely quick in the dry leaves. It stops probably 50 or 60 yards from me on the not as thick side. I figure it's waiting until dark to cross the creek into the thick low pines. I wait until I can't see my hand in front of my face and then wait a little longer. I never heard it leave and assumed it bedded there. I climb down as quiet as I canand didn't use a light and I eased out toward the hiway where I was parked.

The next morning I went back in early also with no light. I didn't know what it was the night before, but it sounded like a big deer and I figured it might come back. I climbed up as quiet as I could probably a half hour before it started breaking day. Closer to daylight I hear something moving around about where I heard the deer come in the night before. I quit hearing it about the time I could start seeing the ground. As it got light, I focused my attention on the open ridge I could see over the top of the thick low pines, figuring if the deer behind me started to move, I could hear it since I had been hearing it move around in the dry leaves. I sat all morning and didn't see a deer and hadn't heard the deer in the thick behind me since before daylight. I sat till about 10 and decided I was done being cold and was going to climb down. I figured the deer in the thick must have slipped out since I hadn't heard it, but I tried to climb down quiet and slow just in case. I focused all my attention on where I had heard the deer as I climbed down. I hand went down about 4 or 5 feet when I saw a patch of deer hide through a hole in the limbs. I stood there trying to tell what it was for a while and couldn't make out any more of it. I figured since I had already gotten away with all I had, I'd climb down a hair more to see what I was seeing. When I did, I could make out part of a shoulder and a beam of what looked like a pretty good rack. I'm not picky so I had seen enough. I found his shoulder in the scope and shot him. When I did, he didn't even wiggle. I climbed on down, quicker this time and made my way over there. There lay about a 160# 15" wide 6 point.

Once I put it all together, I figured out the deer had been hit by a car. When I heard him come in the night before, he must not have been feeling good and layed down. Then the next morning, what I heard was him kicking around dieing. I wound up shooting a dead deer between the shoulder blades.

Not really an exciting story, but something I bet hasn't happened to many people.

Not your fault nightwatchmen - u did nothing wrong - she was likely going to be set back regardless

U were just kids hunting - nothing more

I'm loving this thread.

Tracked a doe for a young kid up on Nat mountain one night during a youth hunt. I didn't have anything but a knife with me but the kid had his 410 and I was trying to stay legal. Deer ended up being alive and ran off and left everybody chasing my dogs. I get to the deer and she was shot through one hindquarter. I get the idea that im just gonna grab her by a ear and cut her throat. Well when I grabbed her I realized I wasn't gonna be able to hold her by this ear very long. She gets loose and starts slapping me and I can hear here teeth popping together while shes trying to bite me. I finally get away and start running circles around a pine tree with her still slapping and biting at me. She finally broke away and I called the dogs off. Went back the next morning bayed her up and let the young man finish her off. Ill grab a live buck by the horns without hesitation but I will never try to grab another doe.

I got kicked pretty hard one time for grabbing a doe that was very much alive….won’t do that again

You are right. Just unfortunate. So sad for the poor girl.