I live in Alabama and I am married to a man. In most cases, that simple little one-plus-one would equal three and a half months of the year ruined by the ruthless stalking of fluffy prey like a caveman on uppers. Yes, I am a deer hunting widow from October 15th through January 31st (it’s physically painful that I know these dates); this is in addition to being an SEC football widow from mid-August through the SEC Championship game in early December, followed by a National Championship game in January if God loves us enough.
I actually don’t mind the deer hunting whenever it actually results in a deer that we can eat. Aside from the several deer that my husband has missed and an equally significant number that he has shot and never could find (because it’s easy to get really, REALLY far away with an arrow sticking out of your side), I would be a whole lot more supportive of this habit if actual meat was the prize at the bottom of the box.
The time spent away from the family perched in a rickety aluminum tree stand for countless hours every weekend during the season isn’t what really hurts me, though. It’s the pee. Yes, I said it, there is a pee problem. Not mine, or my husband’s (well, technically it’s his problem).
In order to hunt deer you have to have a lot of pee, presumably the kind of pee that will attract other deer. Usually doe pee is involved, although if you’re lucky you can get your hands on doe-in-rut pee, the kind that will drive those bucks wild with lust and wanting. Where do you get such liquid gold?
At the pee store. Duh.
Yes, my husband BUYS pee. He PAYS for urine. With actual MONEY. Somewhere along the way I forgot to inform him that if there is anything in my life that I feel we have way too much of, it’s pee. My own pee notwithstanding, there are two children and a dog that have been happily bringing pee into my life for years, and I’ve only just in the last several years gotten all three of them to the point that they can take care of their pee on their own. Little bottles with labels like Doe-Eyed Gold and Buck Bomb have graced the shelves of our attic with the hunting equipment for far longer than I can think about without throwing up a little bit in my mouth.
I finally managed to cure my husband of his obsession with purchasing store-bought pee: like a good wife, I supported his hobbies and interests by usually getting him some hunting-related device for his birthday. This year, I bought him a little camouflaged canister about the size of a soda can that hangs from a tree and dispenses…pee. On a timer, even. You simply hang it in the woods near your tree stand, set it to go, and while you sit safely above ground (and away from all pee) this little contraption sprays doe pee all over the ground to draw the bucks to you. It’s like taking pee from a baby.
Only I bought the wrong one and this one wasn’t on a timer. It was motion activated. He walked near it and the mechanical Pee Fairy doused him from the top of his international orange hat to his Cabela’s all-weather snake guard boots. Happy birthday, dear.
5 thoughts on “And That, My Child, Is How We Use the WHOLE Deer”
ROFL!!! I too know way too much about hunting, football and….pee.
Very, very funny story, Lorca! I’m from NC and lived in Georgia for many years and I am a deer hunter. Loved it, but I just can’t understand all the business of buying tricks and scents, cameras and very special clothes.
I see hunters all decked out in their camos with their bright orange vest ands hats and wonder what the deer think. Yes they are colorblind and the bright orange is only so some other hunter doesn’t shoot you.
I was luck to have a house in the woods and could hunt in the back. Shot several deer every year with my 50 cal blackpower rifle that I made from a kit. I would drag the deer back to the house and butcher it myself. My wife made sausage and packed the meat away. I didn’t go out to bag antlers like most hunters today.
Some of my best times were spent in the woods enjoying nature and her bounty. Even if I didn’t shoot at anything– which was most of the time– it was great.
If you sat still and watch the wonders around you some other hunter smelling like deer pee will move the deer into your area.
I fully agree with the enjoying nature, and would LOVE to see more deer arrive in my driveway on the hood of the truck because it would mean a lower grocery bill! But do we have to actually spend money on urine? Can I just go on a tree for free? Would that help??? :~)
OMG Lorca, I come from a deer hunting family in Arkansas (yes, I must admit you all kicked the snot out of us in football, darn it) anyway, I laughed and laughed at your story. My son was buying doe pee as a seven year old. As an 11 year old he was buying it in 5 gallon buckets, bottling the stinky stuff himself OUTSIDE and selling it to other hunters. I know all about doe pee, yes indeed. It was a GREAT story, thanks for sharing it with us.
I think people in other parts of the country secretly think, “Dear Lord, I hope those Southern women are kidding.” Sadly, my sisters, we’re not. This is all true. The eyelash curling, not so much. But this? Completely true.