Yesterday I got a call from a hunter who had hit a buck with an arrow two days earlier. He had found a few drops of blood but not the deer. I had no hopes of finding it but also had nothing better to do so Fred and I met him at the site.
After taking five leaks and a crap Fred yawned and trotted off in the direction that the hunter said the deer had traveled. After three hundred yards Fred shifted gears and took off like he does on a hot trail. A few minutes later the gps signaled “Treed” so I hurried in that direction.
A few minutes later I caught up with him only to find that he was trying to hump an apparently lost feist.
After pulling him off the bitch I put on the lead and headed back to the truck. When we got there I let go of the lead and was chagrined when Fred took off in the direction from which we had just come. This time when he got to the last point he kept going so I had no choice but to follow.
After nearly 1200 yards during which he crossed a creek three times I finally caught up and found him licking a game camera that overlooked a pile of corn. I scolded him and called him off but he would not leave the camera. Even three hard shocks with the training collar would not convince him to leave it.
Out of pure curiosity I opened the camera and found that it had a built in viewer. At that time the hunter showed up and we decided to look at the pics. To my amazement when we got to the last picture the hunter exclaimed “that is my buck!”. Sure enough, there he was eating corn. A small but clearly visible arrow cut was located low on the buck’s brisket.
Apparently satisfied, Fred started headed back towards the truck.