Not my story, but I read a story about a guy who got buck fever really bad. He forgot to load his gun when a monster walked by. He was eating a HoHo at the time. Instead of reaching for his magazine with the bullets in it, he shoved the HoHo up the gun.
several years ago I went to middle creek--was still dark in the early morning--walked up to the high part of the hill I wanted to hunt--got to my spot--pulled the full box of bullits out of my pocket--took tray out of the box--went to sit on the ground to lean on a tree --fell backwards and tossed all my bullits behind me in the dark-scrounged around to find all of them--put them back in the box--went to sit down again--slipped and tossed them in the air again--never did find all of them this time--
""I know --I'm a big dummy"
My father was walking down a railroad bed. As he walks around the corner he sees a guy with his gun shouldered and pointing up the hill. The guy is letting them fly. Bang, eject, Bang, eject, etc. He continues to do this until he is empty. My dad then walks up to him and the guy is all excited. "Did you see it. Did you see it. I emptied my gun on him and he didn't flinch." My dad then goes to the other side of the guy and then picks up all of the rounds and hands them to the guy. The guy then just looked at him puzzled. They were all still live rounds. The guy says he knows that he shot them at the deer. My dad then tells him "Sorry bud, but you were pointing the gun at the deer and yelling BANG and reloading. Talk about embarrassed.
My neighbor two years ago shot what he thought was a Coyote in his chicken coop , he was so excited he decided to get a rug made the thing is he should of showed it off a little because when he got to the taxidermist the asked why he wanted a rug made out of his Husky... it was the people up the roads dog.
Back in '81 my uncle had shot an 8 point on one of the drives they were putting on. It was the biggest buck that had been killed out there. When the one guy got up to where the deer had been shot he was so excited he pulled his pipe out of his pocket and lit er up. The only problem is that he didn't have any tobacco in his pipe and burnt the heck out of his tongue.
My brother left his lab in the cab of his truck while we were having a few hydrolic sandwiches after hunting one day. The dog got mad and ate the rubber off of the steering wheel down to the wire hoop.
Years ago we were rabbit hunting in January. We had a relatively new hunter along, although he was about 40 at the time. He saw a rabbit sitting out in front of him and said so. His BIL said if you can sneak up on him you can catch him. The new guy laid down his shotgun and started his sneak. He got right up to the bunny and was reaching for it when it just exploded out of there. Our novice stumbled backwards ad fell on his rump. It was funny at the time but I guess you had to be there.
Have a shall-remain-nameless family member, when he was a kid, LONG TIME AGO, spots a rabbit in a field. Gets his dad to stop the car, hops out, walks 25 yards off road, BOOM, rabbit moves a little, but its still there. BOOM, hits it again, but it still doesn't run or move much. Looks over at nearby bar, outside on back deck, 15 guys falling down laughing. Stuffed rabbit.
My dad had lost his leg in a steel mill at the young age of nineteen. It never slowed him down and we hunted together all over this country, until is passing last year. Years ago on a bowhunt in Elk county we had planned on climbing some trees one evening with no climbers by an apple orchard. Shortly after leaving my dad at his tree i heard him yelling for help. Upon arriving at his tree i found him standing on a limb on one leg and his wooden leg stuck in a crotch of the tree 6 feet above him. He had grabbed a limb and swung his wooden leg up and got stuck. He somehow got his pants pulled down and un-strapped his leg and waited for me. I climbed the tree and got his leg back on and went back to hunting.
I have two stories that I thought were pretty funny though one was just remembered after reading one of the previous stories.
Back almost fifty years ago a group of us were putting on some small woodlot drives during the buck season. I was a driver and as we came just about to the end of the drive, at a large open field, I saw this nice buck run across in front of me but I couldn’t get a shot. The driver just above me was the last one in line before the buck would hit the field in front of several of the watchers. He fired a shot at the buck just before it entered the field and disappeared from his sight.
We got to the field and sure enough there was a blood trail and we could see three or four of the watchers standing where they should have been able to both see and get shooting at the buck but not one of them had fired a shot. We could see the deer piled up about a hundred yard out in the field and couldn’t figure out why no one had shot. As we walked up to the deer it became obvious why no one had been shooting at the deer; it didn’t have any antlers. It was really funny watching the blood drain from Woody’s face as he realized he had shot an illegal deer. He just stood there, short of the deer, looking around like what the heck for about a full minute. But, once we walked up and looked closer it was apparent the deer had two huge red spots on the top of his head where antlers had just been knocked off. We back trailed the buck to where just after Woody had fired at it he had run through a fence and knocked both of the nine-point antlers cleanly off of his head. It all turned out ok but we sure had Woody worried and thinking he had shot an illegal deer for a while.
The other one involved a long deceased friend of mine who had also been one of my Hunter Education Instructors. Moe had lost part of a leg and wore a prosthesis leg but since it was a below the knee amputation he didn’t limp and few people even knew he had an artificial leg.
Moe and a couple friends had gone into a rather remote area of Canada on a moose hunt. They had their tent camp all set up when after a day or two another group of hunters moved in within sight and set up camp near them. Of course this rather torqued Moe and friends that someone would move in on their hunting location. Moe told them not to worry since he figured the other guys would be pulling up and moving before the night was over.
That night Moe went in to his tent, put on his spare artificial leg and an old boot, grabbed his gun and couple six packs of beer and headed over to great the New Comers. It wasn’t long until Moe had them thinking he was both drunk and a bit nuts. After a while he pulled up and made like he was sighting his gun out past his stretched out legs while telling them a hunting story. Out of no where he just fired off a round right through his foot. He jumped up and started dancing around hollering “Wow look at that blew a hole right through my foot” and just left, rifle in hand, hobbling back over toward his own camp.
About an hour later the New Comer camp sight was vacated and never seen again all week.
Helped a guy drag a buck out to where his truck could get to it. He tied the rope to a tree. ??? I asked the guy if he thought the deer would get up and run away? He said "no... but it seemed like the right thing to do with that end of the rope."