This morning I awoke to the gentle pitter-patter of rain. Around six A.M. the grandson and Heather arrived to deer hunt. It wasn't raining too hard, they said, and they were going ahead with their plans. They left their Great Dane, Titan, with me. Less than an hour later the rain was really coming down hard. It wasn't long before the hunters, soaked to the skin and freezing, were at the door. They changed clothes, and Heather threw their soggy hunter-wear in the dryer.
They looked so pitiful, I decided they needed a nice, hot breakfast. Bacon and pancakes sounded like just the thing, and of course when I suggested that, Cliff jumped right on the bandwagon.
Later on Cliff went to the shop, leaving me with the would-be hunters:
I assumed my chances of having a doe for our freezer were pretty much gone, at least until next weekend. However, around 2:30 the rain diminished to a sprinkle and they trekked to the woods again. They had only been gone a short time when I got a call on the cell phone from Arick: "Heather got a doe!"
On Facebook, I saw this picture already posted:
Cliff and I will get it worked up and in the freezer tomorrow.