About a year ago, I posted an entry that profiled my friend Bob Briggs, a retired dentist who has a gorgeous farm not far from my home. Bob was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer last summer and suffered through months of aggressive treatment before returning home just in time for the deer season. He shot the biggest buck of his life on the next-to-last day of the firearms season.
When the 2008 archery season opened here in September, Bob was too weak to draw his bow, so he got a crossbow permit and enjoyed hunting whenever he could. One early November evening, my wife answered the phone and listened as a breathless Bob asked if I could come to the farm and drag out his buck. “He’s the only one who knows where my stand is!” Bob laughed. “Tell him it’s the stand way up on the hill by the pond. I can’t make that walk again!”
So I showed up at the farm, congratulated my buddy and, joined by Bob’s son Steve and one of Bob’s hunting buddies, made the long trek to find the deer. We found the buck in short order, field dressed it, and tugged and pulled the animal down the steep brush-choked hill back to camp. As you can seen, it’s an awesome trophy, an animal any hunter would be proud of.
I’m just proud of Bob.