
The morning that Sean shot this buck, he came home from the field behind our house. It was early, early and cold, very cold outside. I heard his boots on the stairs and heard him whisper into our son Andrew's room, "Andrew, I shot a buck, do you want to come help me with it?"
In no more than three minutes, Andrew went from a deep comatose sleep to awake and alert dressed in snowpants and boots. Sean said Andrew saw the deer lying in the field and jumped up, sending an excited victory fist into the air. He is a future hunter, I'm sure.
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