I shot a mangy coyote last Sunday out in Missouri, and about 20 minutes later, a fat little doe came by, headed for a saddle the deer like to cross the field in.
She didn't make it. I got all retro and used a .30/30 this year, it was funner than the .270s, maybe. She made it about 40 yards, all downhill, but I was able to get within 30 yards via an old logging road. It was a lazy year.
You can roll a turd in peanuts, dip it in chocolate, and it still ain't no damn Baby Ruth.
