6.5_sWv's post in the "2025 Hunting Season" about taking his father turkey hunting got me thinking about my dad's last couple of hunts.
About the next to last hunt was around 2010. We had snow on the ground for the first day of deer season. My brother convinced Dad to go out with us. We had him go on a short, easy walk to where a couple of deer trails intersect on the wooded hillside. Dad was carrying his 1100 Rem. with a slug barrel and scope on it. My brother and I took up positions a fair distance away on either side of him. We were far enough away not to interfere with his stand but close enough to hear a shot.
During the course of the morning, I heard him take a shot. When I walked over to pick him up to walk down to the house for lunch, he said he had seen a buck and shot at it but missed it. While we were eating lunch I got to thinking about what Dad said and asked a few questions about how far away the deer was from him and whether or not he had seen any hair or blood. He answered that it wasn't that far away but that he hadn't actually walked over to where the deer was when he shot. He just figured he had missed it because it ran away so quickly. That set off an alarm in my head because I knew my dad had always been a pretty decent shot. However, he was color blind and couldn't see red.
So, after we finished lunch, I walked back up on the hillside with Dad and went to where he said the deer had been when he shot. Sure enough, I found blood and hair. I followed the trail a short way and found a dead buck, just out of sight of Dad's stand position. That was the last buck he ever shot.
Dad's last buck:
After that season, Dad's health went downhill, and he developed dementia. We didn't dare to take him out in the woods unattended and with a gun. However, since NYS hunting licenses are free for hunters over 70, Dad still got a hunting license.
Dad's dementia got pretty bad. His short-term memory was essentially gone. You could have the same short conversation with him over and over, all day long, with him asking the same questions over and over. It was sad to see.
Back then, we couldn't use rifles to hunt deer in this area. However, we could hunt with pistols. So, I was deer hunting exclusively with a rear grip Rem. XP 100-R chambered in 260 Rem. I could hunt the open fields and reach out way further that I could with shotgun slugs.
One year after Dad has stopped going out in the woods with us and I had already filled my buck tag; I was just hanging out at my house one day during deer season and I noticed a herd of deer had come out in the field behind Dad and Mom's house. The farmer who had leased our fields that year had baled the hay with the large round bales and left them in the field. I knew the deer weren't afraid of vehicles and I developed an idea to get Dad out again.
I called Mom and told her to get Dad dressed in his hunting clothes and have him by the garage doors. I got the pistol and drove across the street to Mom's and Dad's. The garage doors are on the front of the house, opposite of where the deer were. So, I was able to get Dad loaded in the truck without the deer seeing us.
Keeping our distance, we circled around, and I drove up beside a large round bale with the passenger door toward the bale. The bale of hay provided a screen so I could help Dad out of the truck and over to the bale. I placed a big rubber mat over the bale and placed the pistol on the bale. The curve of the bale provided a great rest for the pistol, with the forearm touching and pistol grip touching, you had two points of contact with bale. Dad got into position, but never having shot this pistol before, he wasn't aware of the relatively light (compared to factory pistol triggers) trigger pull. He accidently fired the pistol before he was completely settled, making a clean miss.
Due to the snow on the ground, I could watch the deer run up on the hill side and head east to the field that was behind my house. So, I got Dad back into the truck, and we drove out to the field behind my house. There we picked another round bale and set up on it just like before. In just a few minutes, the herd of deer came out into that field. But this time, we were all settled into position and Dad was aware of the lighter trigger pull (because I was reminding him with every breath that I took). We picked out a nice doe, Dad aimed, he fired, and we had a dead deer. That was his last deer.
The peculiar thing about this event is that, in spite of his dementia, Dad remembered it. A day or so later, we drove Dad over to visit his sister. Mom and I sat there in amazement as Dad recounted this hunt to cousins. Somehow this event was so meaningful to him that he could remember it. It was the last thing that ever registered in his short-term memory.
About the next to last hunt was around 2010. We had snow on the ground for the first day of deer season. My brother convinced Dad to go out with us. We had him go on a short, easy walk to where a couple of deer trails intersect on the wooded hillside. Dad was carrying his 1100 Rem. with a slug barrel and scope on it. My brother and I took up positions a fair distance away on either side of him. We were far enough away not to interfere with his stand but close enough to hear a shot.
During the course of the morning, I heard him take a shot. When I walked over to pick him up to walk down to the house for lunch, he said he had seen a buck and shot at it but missed it. While we were eating lunch I got to thinking about what Dad said and asked a few questions about how far away the deer was from him and whether or not he had seen any hair or blood. He answered that it wasn't that far away but that he hadn't actually walked over to where the deer was when he shot. He just figured he had missed it because it ran away so quickly. That set off an alarm in my head because I knew my dad had always been a pretty decent shot. However, he was color blind and couldn't see red.
So, after we finished lunch, I walked back up on the hillside with Dad and went to where he said the deer had been when he shot. Sure enough, I found blood and hair. I followed the trail a short way and found a dead buck, just out of sight of Dad's stand position. That was the last buck he ever shot.
Dad's last buck:
After that season, Dad's health went downhill, and he developed dementia. We didn't dare to take him out in the woods unattended and with a gun. However, since NYS hunting licenses are free for hunters over 70, Dad still got a hunting license.
Dad's dementia got pretty bad. His short-term memory was essentially gone. You could have the same short conversation with him over and over, all day long, with him asking the same questions over and over. It was sad to see.
Back then, we couldn't use rifles to hunt deer in this area. However, we could hunt with pistols. So, I was deer hunting exclusively with a rear grip Rem. XP 100-R chambered in 260 Rem. I could hunt the open fields and reach out way further that I could with shotgun slugs.
One year after Dad has stopped going out in the woods with us and I had already filled my buck tag; I was just hanging out at my house one day during deer season and I noticed a herd of deer had come out in the field behind Dad and Mom's house. The farmer who had leased our fields that year had baled the hay with the large round bales and left them in the field. I knew the deer weren't afraid of vehicles and I developed an idea to get Dad out again.
I called Mom and told her to get Dad dressed in his hunting clothes and have him by the garage doors. I got the pistol and drove across the street to Mom's and Dad's. The garage doors are on the front of the house, opposite of where the deer were. So, I was able to get Dad loaded in the truck without the deer seeing us.
Keeping our distance, we circled around, and I drove up beside a large round bale with the passenger door toward the bale. The bale of hay provided a screen so I could help Dad out of the truck and over to the bale. I placed a big rubber mat over the bale and placed the pistol on the bale. The curve of the bale provided a great rest for the pistol, with the forearm touching and pistol grip touching, you had two points of contact with bale. Dad got into position, but never having shot this pistol before, he wasn't aware of the relatively light (compared to factory pistol triggers) trigger pull. He accidently fired the pistol before he was completely settled, making a clean miss.
Due to the snow on the ground, I could watch the deer run up on the hill side and head east to the field that was behind my house. So, I got Dad back into the truck, and we drove out to the field behind my house. There we picked another round bale and set up on it just like before. In just a few minutes, the herd of deer came out into that field. But this time, we were all settled into position and Dad was aware of the lighter trigger pull (because I was reminding him with every breath that I took). We picked out a nice doe, Dad aimed, he fired, and we had a dead deer. That was his last deer.
The peculiar thing about this event is that, in spite of his dementia, Dad remembered it. A day or so later, we drove Dad over to visit his sister. Mom and I sat there in amazement as Dad recounted this hunt to cousins. Somehow this event was so meaningful to him that he could remember it. It was the last thing that ever registered in his short-term memory.
