Josh Dossett

Harvest Story: We got on this deer last year. I passed him early in the season and tagged out on another deer. I put my stepson on him, and we played cat and mouse but couldn’t get it done. This past summer he showed back up and he put on a lot of mass. I decided he was a deer I wanted to go after. Like last year he only moved at night and was very reclusive. On November 9th he day-lighted on camera but then disappeared altogether. I knew he was locked down with a doe but couldn’t figure him out. On November 14th I was working at the office and decided to look at aerial maps of our farm to try and figure out where he would hole up. There is a small thicket where I killed my first “good” deer 25 years ago but has become a spot we don’t hunt much. I decided to go peek into the thicket and then slide down to the field edge hoping he would be out looking for another hot doe. As I approached the thicket, I could see a doe looking in the opposite direction. Seconds later the doe bolted in my direction followed by the heavy 8. It all happened fast and less than a minute later I was kneeling next to the deer that had given me fits for two years. I sat there quietly and felt humbled and blessed that after all the time trying to figure him out, I was finally in the right place at the right time. I am often envious of my younger self that just went deer hunting. Hunting mature deer is a swing of emotions and each year I have a moment wondering if it’s worth it. Sitting there in the quiet fall woods I knew again it all is. The harvest is often a very small, conflicted part of a broad story. The time spent anguishing over a particular deer, the moment of letting them walk praying they make it another year, the close encounters only to have the wind swirl. These are stories I will tell as an old man who once again will “just hunt”.