It was around 1976/77 when a new neighbor moved into the house next door. He was from New York City and we got to talking. He asked about the hunting here in Nevada where I lived at the time and I told him it was pretty good. Come deer season I loaned him a rifle and we were out opening day. We went to one of my favorite spots and though we looked and hunted hard hadn't seen a thing. Tom, my NYC neighbor had been grumbling for a while telling me we won't see deer because the country was too open for them to hide. I told him, "Patience my friend." I'd decided we should go to another area that usually had deer and we were sitting at the top od a ridge resting a bit before climbing down to where my truck was parked. As we discussed where we might go to I heard a volley of shots off to my right that came from behind a saddle in the hills. I turned to look and damn me if a right pretty 4x4 came trotting across the saddle heading right toward us. Tom and my stepson who was with us were looking the other way and there was no way I could turn enough to take a shot. I decided to try shooting left handed and took the shot dropping the buck DRT. Tom jumped up hollering at me to be careful with that gun. I just looked at him and said, "When you're through hollering at me, come on over and help me gut my deer." He said, "What deer?" I said the one lying deed about 25 yards from us. The look on his face when he saw it was priceless.
PJ
