I’m in fifth grade. It’s dark when we arrive at our spot, but that’s good; the deer will think we are part of their surroundings, even in our red and purple folding chairs. We’ve been sitting and talking about random stuff and how to shoot a winning shot for about an hour or so when we hear a grunt behind us. My dad and I turn our heads to look at the same time, and see an eight-point buck standing behind us! My dad tells me, “Get up slowly and find the deer in the scope, then shoot, gently squeezing the trigger and try not to jerk the gun back,” He keeps advising me to shoot, and it reminds me of how when I was younger and we’d play baseball on the Wii he’d tell me when to swing. I try to pull the trigger, but I have pink mittens on and by the time I get them off, the deer has spotted us and is running away into the hillside. I can’t believe I missed a buck because of some stupid mittens AND I tried to run after the deer.

I am in seventh grade. We are in the Old Orchard in our double stand, with a nice view of the fruit trees my grandma, my cousins, and I planted a couple years back--which the deer have been using as deer rubs--and of the surrounding woods. My view is a bit obstructed by the medium cedar on the right side of the stand, though, and that’s probably why after only a short time, my dad sees a deer, before me. We were talking about my cousin sleeping while hunting and nearly missing a buck when my dad exclaims, “LOOK!” pointing at something to the right.

“Where? I can’t see it. Where is it?” I say, leaning over the stand to for a better view.
“Just wait, it’s walking. It’ll probably come in to view in a moment.” Then he goes over how to shoot with me, adding, “Take a deep breath, then gently squeeze the trigger as you exhale.” 

She’s in the crosshairs and my dad is whisper-shouting, “Shoot! Shoot Now!” But, she turns, right as I’m taking the shot; now her backside is towards me. But, I shot her; my first deer! I can’t believe I shot her! Where did I shoot her? Did I shoot her in the butt like Noah says? OMG! I shot her with one shot!

I’m in eighth grade now, and this year we hunted in a family friend’s stand. Surrounded by cedars on three sides and a cow pasture on one side, my dad and I talked the whole time: joking, discussing the hunter’s ed. course, and laughing about the stories Uncle Steve told of a pair of hunters listening to a radio, and dreaming of getting a deer. We ended up seeing SEVEN deer that day and neither one of us got a shot off. When we came back to camp Kenny, Steven, Jr., Josh, Bonnie, Harry, and Uncle Steve asked, “Why don’t you have one hanging in the tree? You saw SEVEN deer, and I didn’t even see ONE,” But, that’s okay, because that day I realized I value the time I spend hunting, bonding, and talking with my dad more than having a deer in the tree. I love hunting because I spend that time with my dad.