Waking up about 6:30AM Sunday morning, I put water on the stove for my coffee then went outside to throw some deer corn. After brushing my teeth, and making the java, I looked out the front window and saw two bucks about 150 yards in front of my home. Because another house was just a few hundred yards behind them, I asked the Lord to move the deer to the side of my yard where it would be clear shooting.
Walking back to my bedroom, I grabbed the .30.30 under my bed, put two bullets in it, and, still in my pajamas and slippers, saw that a seven-pointer had moved to the side eating his deer corn. Standing on the front porch again, I raised my rifle to sight him in…but he was looking straight at me, unperturbed! I asked the Lord to turn him around so that I would have a nice heart shot.
I tied a rope around his hind legs and hoisted him into the back of the church Suburban. After finishing my cup of coffee I whisked him over to one of our church members to have him field dressed. (No, I haven’t learned to do this yet.)
After he was cleaned, I went to our local processor and left him in the cooler where I’m hoping to get about 50 pounds of jerky and dry sausage.
Rushing to church, I took a quick shower, dressed—then preached the Word at our Sunday service.
Deer hunting in Johnson City, Texas, is more popular than football. On opening day, every man, woman and child breaks out their cammies, strolling around town like walking human landscapes—if you can see them.
White tail hunting is not only a sport, it’s a necessity because there are literally more deer than people in the area where we live. Hunting plays an important role in controlling the population. A good deer-to-acre ratio is one per 15 acres; we have one-in-3 acres here.
“Overpopulation of white-tail deer is an issue of growing concern in several Texas Hill Country communities. Property damage, motorist safety, and the possibility for disease overtaking herds are the three key issues which have some residents calling for an expansion of deer-control,” says a manual called “White-tailed Deer Management in the Texas Hill Country.”
A hunter’s limit is 5 per season.
One big buck totaled the car I drove to Texas. A year after purchasing a brand-new Toyota, it was in the body shop for a month after hitting a doe. While driving for the Dripping Springs ISD, my school bus sent another one flying into the air. Some say deer horns work for repelling car-crashing bucks—two little air horns that whistle at the front of your bumper when driving.
A .30.30 works a lot better.
But forgetting all that, I wanted to kill my own meat.
Nearly every household in our area has venison as a staple food, from burger and backstrap, to the ever-delicious jerky and sausage. (A word of caution: Do not invite your Jewish or Muslim friends over when serving venison sausage; it’s packed with 50% pork!)
For those who don’t have enough meat, we just started a partnership with Harvest House Farms asking hunters to shoot and donate their limit of deer to Texas Hunters For The Hungry. For a minimal processing fee (which our church will pay, if needed), Kip Thompson, owner of Harvest House, will make burger out of the venison. Currently, we have 500 pounds on hand at Community Church of the Hills. Simply PM me and we’ll get some to you.
Shooting deer is biblical, too.
God commanded Peter to “Go, kill and eat,” (Acts 10:13) though scholars are divided on what caliber rifle he used. (Tradition says he sported a Colt AR-15.)
God started the first deer hunts way back in Genesis when giving us charge over the earth: “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.” (Genesis 1:26-28)
Nothing speaks of dominion more than using all five deer tags!
While respecting those who do not eat meat, I do not esteem those who would tell hunters they shouldn’t hunt or eat meat, or even post photos of their edible trophies.
It’s lawful, biblical and necessary….
…except for posting the photos, I suppose.