October 27 was too hot to kill a big buck, with temperatures in the high 70s. It was the peak of the full moon, and my 8-year-old daughter, Emma, and I had gotten to the blind too late, finally settling in at 5:45 PM. The wind direction was iffy, and I had forgotten my headnet. Also, Emma had ridden on my back as we hiked through the tall grass to the blind. That’s right, in addition to my 20-pound Catquiver backpack, I was hauling a 65-pound kid on my back. She wouldn’t walk through the chest-high grass and cactus, and I don’t blame her. Killing a buck on an after-school Tuesday afternoon hunt with Dad seemed like mission impossible—but sometimes, despite the odds, things just come together.