Gary R Akin
There exists in upstate New York a whitetail deer problem with the potential to make us reminisce wistfully of chronic wasting disease. I am not the only person to observe this alarming situation. I was hunting behind my camp with my Dad, Uncle Don, and cousin ‘Bird’.
The deer had not been moving for a couple of days so we decided that I could try to force the action a little bit. I have a small hemlock stand on my property with a small brook that gets kind of swampy as it runs through it. Dad, Uncle Don and Bird would take their morning watches around the perimeter of the hemlocks and I was going to hunt elsewhere. But before they left their stands to come in for lunch, I would return at 11 o’clock and do a slow still hunt thru the hemlocks. It wasn’t to be an actual drive but if I got deer moving I’d have shooters in place in known positions.
I carefully worked my way thru the hemlocks and swamp. Everything seemed perfect as I slowly scanned the thick cover for a part of a deer. Unfortunately I saw no deer for my efforts thru the swamp and I heard no shots from my hunting partners. I approached the last stand, which had my Dad in it. “Anything?” I questioned. “Nope.” was the reply. “Well, lets get the others and have lunch. Maybe we’ll have better luck this afternoon.” We picked up Bird who had also seen nothing and started back to camp single file on the trail. When we came upon Uncle Don though he turned slowly to us with his finger to his lips. “Sshhh,” he whispered, “There’s a deer moving in there!” as he pointed towards the thick cover of the swamp.
In hushed tones we came up with a new game plan. The others would again surround the swamp and I’d come thru again in a northerly route to flush out our quarry. I rushed around the swamp and started my push. But when I came to my comrades no one had been fortunate enough to get a good look at the deer. Uncle Don hadn’t seen it but Bird saw part of a leg and the rear end as it snuck past. Dad heard the deer approaching, but it turned before leaving the security of the swamp and he also only saw the back end as it snuck back into the swamp. This is one smart deer we agreed. Two pushes thru the swamp and no one had received a clear look. Let’s try this again. I’ll come down the creek bed this time on an easterly route. This time Uncle Don saw part of the deer and I even saw a bit of hind end as I worked to the standers. Bird heard the deer sneaking thru.
Damn! What’s going on here? The swamp just isn’t that big! I decided to try driving the deer from its sanctuary one more time. This time a westerly route would take me back toward camp. I pushed thru the swamp with anger in every stride. I wasn’t quiet this time! I was stomping mad! Results? More of the same. One heard the deer and the others could only catches glimpses of the rear end of the sneaky deer after it had gone past. Disgustedly I stamped off to camp and lunch. When the others arrived I’d already drained my first can of cold soda to quench the thirst I’d worked up.
As we ate our lunch we discussed the hunt. What kind of deer was it? A wise old buck? Perhaps a doe in heat layin’ low. Whatever it was it sure didn’t want to leave the security of that swamp! Bird named it “Slick 50”. But it was Dad who came up with the answer. We’d all seen a bit of the deer as it moved in different directions. Yet all of us had only seen it from one angle…. It was obvious. This deer had an ass on both ends!
Just think of the possible ramifications if this deer were allowed to breed! It could ruin hunting, as we know it. Sexual identification is almost impossible with no head to hold antlers. Its stealthiness is remarkable. We had four experienced hunters try to take this deer and our efforts were a definition of futility. I myself have initiated a quest to kill this double-assed deer but so far I’ve had no luck.
It’s been several years since this experience occurred and I’ve seen several ‘normal’ deer in the swamp since. I haven’t seen a double-assed deer again. I can only hope that it was a genetic anomaly. Perhaps a one time sterile occurrence. Or maybe the local coyote population managed to harvest what Dad, Uncle Don, Bird and I could not. I’m sure they’d find a double-assed deer very appetizing.
At any rate, I’ll keep you posted as to the status of the double-assed deer herd in upstate New York. Should further observations occur I am prepared to fence off the swamp in an effort to quarantine this deer from the general population? Wish me luck!!!!
Gary
Adirondack Camp Journal 