Three years ago on the opening day of shotgun season, my grandpa and I were hunting on a local farmers land. It was our first year hunting here and we knew it wasn't the kinda of timber that produced a monster buck every year. So my grandpa sent up a ground blind over looking a thick patch of briars at the bottom of a deep draw. We were just out to get a mature doe or buck. I went to a bottom that split up a bean field and corn field. I was down there about half hour before shooting light, so it would give the deer in the area time to calm down. At about 7 30 a.m. i saw three big does run across the bean field and into the bottom. They were about 200 yards away, and needed to come about 100 yds. to give me a good shot. Well they soon ran off in the opposite direction, so i got set up again. All of a sudden i hear what sounded like an earthquake behind me. I turned arond and the three does ran across the edge of the bean field at 100 yds. and i took a shot. I watched the does run up and over the hill, but one was limping. I knew i had hit one but it didn't appear to be the best shot. I waited about an hour and went to look for blood. I couldn't find any blood, so i figured i just skimmed her.

       The next day i went back down to the bottom, but with my grandpa by my side. We went down to the bottom and stood about 50 yds. apart. At about 8 a.m. i started to doze off. When all of a sudden i heard my grandpa shoot. So i stood up and saw does running everywhere. I picked out the doe at 5 yds. and shot. She ran 15 yds. up the hill and dropped. I had gotten my first deer. I walked up to her and noticed that she had a hole that looked like a bullet had made. After I thought about it, I knew that it had to be the same doe i had wounded yesterday. I will never forget my first deer.