On opening day of archery season this year I arrowed a buck. Dressing out at 105 pounds, it wasn’t a wall hanger or the largest buck I’ve killed, but it was unusual. I’ve killed my share over the years, but I don’t usually hunt bucks specifically. Killing a doe is no less important to me than a buck.
Don’t get me wrong. If a buck provides a shot I take it. But if a doe comes my way first, I take the opportunity with little hesitation. You could say I’m an equal opportunity hunter.
Killing does is a no-no for some hunters. If the regulations allow it, I’ve never understood the philosophy. I feel no remorse or regret killing a doe. In fact, I feel just the opposite — just as pleased as if it were a wall hanger.
Like many hunters, I started with small game and moved to deer as the natural next step. From the beginning, my journey has been full of disappointments and elation, memorable moments and not so memorable ones. It has also been a journey of self-discovery and learning that made me a better hunter.
One thing I discovered early on that helped solidify my hunting philosophy is that each of us hunts to satisfy our own goals. I knew an old-timer who hunted every day of the season, regardless of weather, yet often passed on opportunities to tag out.
“It’s not all about killing deer,” he told me over coffee at the local hunter’s breakfast. “That’s just a bonus. I hunt for other reasons.” He never said what those reasons were, and I didn’t ask. I was young at the time and perhaps too inexperienced to fully understand. Over the years, I realized he was right.
Since then, I’ve known hunters who call the season a bust if they don’t fill their tag, others who refuse to kill a doe but will take small bucks, and some who hunt only monster bucks and consider killing a doe a mortal sin.
We all hunt for different and deeply personal reasons. I am no different. That’s why I am as satisfied killing a doe as a buck.
There’s no denying large racks are impressive. I am in awe of them as much as the next guy and can appreciate the skill, time and effort it takes to kill a buck. Few come easy. But I’m a product of my raising. It was beaten into my brain early on that you don’t kill anything unless you plan to eat it, and you can’t eat antlers or horns. Big racks look nice on the wall, and bragging rights aside, antlers are something to be proud of and what memories are made of.
The biggest buck I ever arrowed was a nine-pointer weighing 201 pounds dressed. The head mount hangs in the living room, and whenever I look at it I can recall that late October day as if it were yesterday, even though it was more than 20 years ago.
On another wall is the head mount of a doe I killed a couple years later. She hangs there because I have yet to kill a larger doe. I remember that day too, thinking at first she was a buck until she came into full view and I saw no antlers. Creating memories is a big reason I hunt, and I have as many fond memories of tagging does as I do bucks. But that’s not the biggest reason I hunt.
The bottom line is I hunt for the table, plain and simple. Putting everything else aside — the love of being outdoors, the thrill of hunting, camaraderie and other pleasures — putting food on the table tops them all.
Our son was raised on venison and other wild game from the minute he could chew solid food. My wife and I still prefer it over anything available at the local grocery store. In this day and age, with all the hype about killing monster bucks, we seem to have lost sight of why most of us started hunting in the first place.
I have no issue with those who hunt for different reasons or follow a different philosophy. To each his or her own. I make no apologies for the way I hunt.
