He Ain't No Big One, but Who Gives a Buck!

My trophy first

And there I was, at the York Bar, running my mouth about wanting to gut and skin a deer, elk, anything.  I just wanted to learn how to do it and I was in hunting country!  I was talking with the owner of the York Bar, Dave, telling him how I had seen all these hunters go by and I wanted to just ask them if I could help if they killed something.  One day I saw a hunter get a deer, but my Maine instincts came rushing over me and I just watched from the house window... with binoculars.  I wanted to help, but who wants some "greenie" that doesn't know Jack about hunting or guttin' of a critter.  Even if it is a girl?  Plus, you never know if someone is doing something they shouldn't be.  Back home, well, some locals don't take kindly to outsiders.  Just saying.  Me personally, well, people can be a bit intimidated by me.  Really, I'm a pussy cat.
Yeah, so anyway.  I tell Dave how I would love to get my hands dirty and I hear a knock at my door the next morning at around 0800.  Honestly, I get a little freaked because here I am on top of a range, no one visits me and I'm about 40 minutes UP a dirt road and no one lives around me.  I grab my sweater, think about grabbing the gun and answer the door.  Had a weirdo show up one morning, that's the only reason why...  Then there's Dave, feeew!
"Come on, get dressed, let's go!"
"Wait, what?  Did you get one!!!"  I was like a little kid in a candy shop, well, sort of.  If the candy was a warm body that... ok, nevermind.
"Yup, you said you wanted to learn, let's go."
So I got dressed, fed the horses, let the dogs out then fed them, gave the birds some fruit and off I went.  Too funny!  Hop in the truck and there are two other guys.  Steve and John.  Dave tells me he's glad that I wanted to do this because he slipped on the ice, cracked a couple ribs when he hit the hitch or the back of the truck when helping someone who went off the road one day and John had something wrong with his hands. Now Steve had the best story.  Steve is a super nice guy who always has a smile on his face and is always laughing.  He punctured a lung because he decided to pick a fight with a TALL cowboy; Steve is a pussycat and the cowboy just picked him up, squeezed him and set him down.  As a result he had a punctured lung and he and the cowboy were drinking together for the rest of the night.
"WOW, you birds are a pretty rowdy bunch for your age...  How old are you?"  I asked laughing hysterically.
We got to the site where Dave shot the dear and we hiked up to where it was.  I was so excited and could hardly wait, but because of the crash test dummies, I kind of had to.  Dave was pointing out the dear... on the white snow... and I was looking totally opposite of where he was pointing.
"Where, where, I don't see it?"
It's was only right in front of me.  IDIOT!  John and Dave then tell me exactly what to do, but don't show me.  He was a handsome deer!  I thanked him, then away I went.  I didn't want to screw it up at all.  From working at a Animal Hospital, I thought it would have been easier to use a scalpel.  See what I mean... OUTSIDERS!!!  I finished it up with the last bit of help from Dave and then we drug the deer down to the truck and threw it in the back.  Not gonna lie, I could not wipe that "shit-eatin grin" off my face for anything.  Then we headed down to the York Bar, hung up the deer in the shed and went in for a drink.  He wasn't a big buck, but that's what Dave wanted.  He does a Wild Game feed at the bar in March, so I feel privileged to be the one that got to help!
After a bit, we headed out and Dave and I then skinned the deer.  Back inside we went.  Later, after the bar had opened, Dave was bragging to everyone about it.  I was just blushing and telling him that he was talking me up, he really was.  I think he was just like a proud father talking up one of his kids.  I continued the day with a York burger, friggin the best, and met some hilarious people. There were some hunters that came in for a burger and some drinks.  Scott, the bar tender, and I were trying to guess people and what they did when they walked in.  These three hunters that looked like they just stepped out of a cowboy hunting magazine, roll in.  Strippers... Well, those "strippers" where actually hunters on horseback, believe it or not!  But they will forever be our strippers!  Couldn't ask for a better day.  I gutted and skinned my first deer, ate a great burger, had some great company and made some friends, laughed till I cried and most of all, won at cribbage! Hard to beat me at cribbage...  I am a horrible winner and a horrible loser!  I love it though!
Thank you Dave, John, Steve, Scott, Pat (stripper #1) and the other two Strippers for SUCH A GREAT MEMORABLE DAY!!!

Dave and I, blood and all.