The Best of Times, the Worst of Times...

As I sit here at work in my cubicle I can hear other people talk and gossip, and generally pass the day doing as little work as possible. Since I can hear them talking, on the phone and to each other, I wonder if they can hear me.

I wonder what they thought this morning when I was on the phone with my friend describing my weekend. This weekend was the best weekend, up until about Saturday at noon, at which point it quickly went to the worst weekend in recent memory.

On Thursday I celebrated a birthday, and a two-year anniversary with my girlfriend (our first date was two years ago on my birthday). I took off a day of work on Friday so I could go hunting. Its doe season here, and I like to put meat in the freezer every year, if I can.

Friday was great. I was alone in the woods, in a treestand, and I was thinking about how I was going to post a blog here on Monday and how funny it was going to be. As I sat there I replayed the various times this fall that I had been deer hunting, and what had happened each time. Only two weeks ago I was in a tree stand and a deer came running in. It was as good as in the freezer, until I saw two more behind it. They were smaller, and obviously were this doe's fawns. So I didn't shoot, and just watched them ambulate through the woods, only feet away, unaware of the danger they had narrowly escaped. I was jerked back into reality at around 7:30 in the morning, as I noticed a doe walking towards me. She was alone. I quickly decided to take her, so I took one shot, and she only ran about 10 paces and then dropped. She expired seconds later.

At any rate, like I said, it was shaping up to be a great weekend. An hour later I saw four more deer, and since I knew I already had one, I just watched them eat and walk away. It was peaceful and beautiful.

On Saturday I decided I'd go back and hunt again. Really, I was unsure if I'd shoot another deer, but thought that since I'd probably want to be able to give some deer meat away, that I would shoot another one, if the opportunity presented itself.

I didn't see any deer, so I went home. I decided to do some yard work, and while I was outside, I heard my neighbor shoot a gun. He has a shooting range, and owns a farm, and is a CIA or FBI type. Not really sure, but he works for the U. S. Gov't. and certifies other agents on his shooting range. I heard him take a second shot (sounded like a handgun). Then I heard him start swearing. I heard him say, "Oh sh_t! F_ck! Oh God." Then I heard him whistle. I wondered if he cut himself, or worse yet, had he shot himself? I looked through the trees that separate my property and his, and saw him take his dog inside, both appeared to be fine.

An hour went by, and then I heard my cat, Joey crying. I walked around the side of the house and saw her walking towards me. She seemed to have something wrong with her leg. I picked her up and saw that she had been shot. I pieced it together in my mind as I ran inside to call the Vet. She must have been sitting behind one of the wooden targets at my neighbor's house when he shot her. Since he and I are friends and he is an animal lover, I know he didn't do it on purpose.

I rushed Joey to the Vet ER and was given the options. First, we had her placed on morphine and other pain killers. Then we talked about amputation, and her chances of survival. I had tears in my eyes and thought about how I had let her go outside that morning. Why did I let her go outside?

The doctor told me to go home, call someone if I needed to, think about it, and then call back with my decision. I decided to have her put to sleep.

On Sunday I went to the Vet and they gave her to me. I buried her in my backyard with a few toys that she didn't care about while she was alive, but that made me feel better.

Today I'm sitting here thinking about my cat and I'm wondering if I'll ever want to go hunting again.

by: File Boy