A Deer’s Nose Knows

South Texas weather has recently again shown its “diversity” by going from below 20 to near 80+ in the span of under a week. We went from worrying about frozen pipes to thinking about heat stroke. Go figure! I was doing a late morning to noon hunt for turkeys with no success. After a quick lunch my guest and I settled into our spots again and proceeded to begin the afternoon “deer blind sauna” experience one more time.
While I had carefully sprayed down with scent killer before leaving the truck, by the time the deer started moving out of the thick brush, it was near sundown and the NW wind had not done much good in cooling the interior temp. of the metal enclosure I had been sitting in. Several does and yearlings plus a fine 4.5-year-old 8 pointer were feeding along the food plot edge, with the buck pestering the girls. They seemed uninterested in his attention and preferred the corn spread out by the game feeder.
Another buck, younger by a year, but with an impressive 10-point typical rack sneaked out and began feeding in a pattern that was going to take him directly down wind from where I sat. This was opposite the direction of the rest of the deer before me.
At the exact moment his movement brought him to the very edge of where my scent was blowing, his head popped up like a jack in the box clown, and he started looking in my direction. Knowing the buck was off limits in my management practice of letting them grow to at least 5 years of age before even considering them as “shooters”, I was sitting very still and focused on his reaction.
He instinctively knew something “stinky” was somewhere around and while not in a panic, quickly reversed his course and in less than 30 seconds was lost again in the thick brush of La Brasada. I guess my scent removal approach had worn off courtesy of the warm temperature in the blind.
While that deer was in absolutely no danger of me that day, I was reminded how well The Good Lord has provided for their safety by giving them such a keen sense of smell. He did not know WHO I was, or exactly WHERE I was, but quickly had connected WHAT I was, and high tailed it to someplace far safer than being exposed out in the open.

Where Did He Come From/?

One of the most “fun things” for me regarding December deer hunting is the changes in deer movement due to the rut. This year was no exception. On a Mid-December day, I went out to our Home Place with my friend Scott Crabtree, AKA The Turkey Meister. He has been on a lease up by Brady for a good while and has all the deer he needs to harvest for his family use up there. They have less of a population in the way of a turkeys, so he is our official Turkey Harvester as I don’t much care to hunt them.
Scott has taken a few deer and hogs with us down in La Brasada , and mainly donates those deer (all properly tagged and recorded) to folks without access to the meat. In the 2022-2023 season he had already harvested his management and trophy bucks up there so was out with me, hoping for a Gobbler or two to walk by his blind.
We hunted until about Noon and saw very little. Taking the back roads on the way into Charlotte for some lunch, we spotted a couple of nice bucks “walking around on a mission” along with several groups of does out feeding. The same thing happened when returning, and we decided to “high tail it” back to our hunting locations.
Around Midafternoon Scott texted me that he had a big 6 point with no brow tines working his way toward the feeder. My response was an immediate Take Him! The research I have studied shows that the characteristic of weak to no brow times has a highly likely “pass along” effect from generation to generation in white tails. I have long practiced the management plan of removing all 2.5 year or older bucks with that trait.
The net result of that viewpoint, plus his good shooting skills was the harvest of a mature deer that ranks as one of the larger bucks we have every taken off on our place. We did not weigh him, but I am confident he weighed in the 150 + pound field dressed range. While that may be a nice story, the real point is that we have NEVER seen this deer “in person” or on our trail cameras that have been out for several months at multiple locations.
This “stranger” came visiting from who knows how far away, looking for some receptive does. His hocks, all stained and blackened, prove what was on his mind. Likewise, some of the very recognizable mature bucks that have been observed and documented for months are no longer “around” our acres. Hopefully some, if not all, will return unharmed from their travels.
Biologically speaking, this is another reminder of The Good Lord’s game plan to insure there is less inbreeding among the whitetail population. At least on low fenced places like ours.
And while I marvel and am humbled at that Wisdom, from this old Farm Boy’s viewpoint, it just adds another level to the fun of being out in La Brasada during the rut and having the potential to ask the question…. Where did HE come from?

Revisiting an Old Insight

Back in my earlier days as a Professor of Real Estate, I was invited to make a presentation on Personal Management to a large group of real estate practitioners. The details of that talk are long ago forgotten as I possessed far more hair, far less tummy, and a sharper ability to “recollect” things back then compared to the present time.
While giving such talks became a common practice over the 44 years of teaching and nearly 50 years of practicing, it was a BIG deal to be asked to do such a thing way back then. I was worried about how to come up with an easy to remember reminder to the audience for the key points of my ideas.
One late night there was an uncommon noise outside my home in San Antonio and I walked outside to check on the cause. Keep in mind I was sound asleep before the disturbance and “attired” in a T Shirt, Boxer briefs, and barefooted. Walking out the back door I stumbled over a bicycle that had been left on its side right in front of the door on the concrete patio floor. The surprise that ensued from the fall and minor injuries sustained QUICKLY eliminated any concern about the source of noise.
Out of that minor mishap came an acronym that I have written about in textbooks and professional articles besides using speeches for many years. And I think it still applies today as we begin a New Year.
The 4 letter title is BIKE. Just like many examples of success in life, this vehicle can carry us very far IF we continue to exert some energy to make it go forward. The B stands for Belief. In ourselves, our goals and in things bigger than just us. The I is for Involvement. It is very hard to succeed with putting forth sustained effort in “pedaling” towards our life goals. The K is a reflection of the need for Knowledge. School is truly never over in our quest to stay up to date and informed on developments within our fields of interests. The E finalizes the term and is Enthusiasm. Take a moment and consider those people you know that you would consider successful. While demonstrating this trait in a variety of ways, I doubt you will say FEW IF ANY of those individuals were not passionate about their endeavors.
The temptation to elaborate on these 4 points is strong for this Old Aggie who, as The Boss Lady is fond of saying, “got paid by the word”. But suffice it to say that each reader may take something different out of these thoughts and hopefully can apply them in some way to their own “launch” into 2023.
My thanks to Ms. Holder, as talented a writer as I know, and to Devine News for allowing me to offer some ramblings from time to time in their publications. My wish to you ALL is a Happy (and hopefully wetter) New Year.

Finding Some Peace in Getting Old

We recently attended a Birthday Party for a Dear Friend who turned 100. While quite a milestone in human standards, I find this wonderful lady possesses one of the most balanced attitudes of anyone I know.
Keep in mind that she was born in 1922 and that means she has seen quite a few things most of us have not, or only read about in books.
The celebration was very well attended, and I found myself looking for a corner and then moving out into the foyer of the building where her Great Grandchildren were manning the guest registry sign in duties. Since some of the kiddos were quite young, it seemed like a plausible excuse not to be in the “visiting room”, which was large but still crowded.
At the end of the day, Ms. Elizabeth commented that she only failed to recognize one person out of the well over 100 attendees. I got lost in the “name recalling” after about the first 10 folks!
In reflecting the viewpoint of this wonderful role model, I came away with a little less dread about the growing numbers of candles on the B-Day tortillas each year and decided to put on a different outlook. Accept the ever-growing limitations, laugh at them, and keep on plugging along.
I really took that attitude to heart and bought my much older than me Brother-in-Law (11 months) a T-shirt for Christmas to reflect that new outlook.
It says…I Am Too Old to Fight and Too Slow to Run.
But I Am Still a Pretty Darn Good Shot.
Strikes me that may describe more than just him in our family tree. Just as an important side note, he is a Navy Seal!

Enjoying the Show

There are sure a whole lot of things I don’t know much about. And it seems the older I become that fact is more evident. But one of the points I am confident in is that when I run out of fingers counting off the days of December, the rut is about to get going in our little neck of the woods.
Based on that “truth” I headed south recently when the wind was going to be right for a particular location. It is bordered on two sides by some heavy creek bottom country and joins an irrigated high fenced oats patch on another side. There is also a nice +/- acre food plot between the blind and feeder. Sneaking in and getting settled that afternoon, the wind was coming straight into my face. And that is a good thing most of the time when hunting in my experience.
The first deer out was a really nice 3 ½ year old 8 point with a wide spread and good body size for his age. One brow time was half broken off and he was missing a G2. Clearly, he had been involved in some “brawling” already. He was “checking out the scene” and walked off within a couple of minutes, since there was nothing of interest for him at that location. Given there is only one main thing on his mind right now, I was not surprised. Interestingly he came back well over an hour later, arriving on the opposite side of me, having circled completely around. My thinking is he was taking a stroll and looking over his scrapes.
Multiple does and yearlings plus several younger bucks were out by then. One young fellow kept chasing a particular doe all around the feeder area. No one else joined in. About the time it was “getting dusky dark” another 8 point, also 3.5 came out. Those two older bucks took a real interest in that same lady. The 3 of them began the age old “dance” of the rut. Back and forth and round and round they went. I am not sure of the outcome as the doe finally took off out of view with those guys right behind her.
There are many funny things I have observed over the last 60+ years outdoors in La Brasada during the whitetail breeding season. It never gets old for me, and the actions of the deer are just plain and simple different, both for the males and females during this time. So, Good Lord willing, I am planning on heading out there regularly these next few weeks to see what kind of antics I might get to observe. It sure beats the heck out of the shows on TV!

The Gift of Letting Go

I spoke today with the son in law of one of the finest men I have been blessed to know. His name is not of significance in this Tale, but his legacy is. Knowing OF him for many years, and then Knowing HIM personally for a pretty long spell as well was a true gift. This fellow Aggie created things that will impact the lives of others in positive ways for a very long time, and it is an honor to call him my Friend.
We know two of his children, and while of different personalities, are likewise exceptional individuals, no doubt in part to the role model of their dad. Thus, part of him is still active and contributing in life.
In visiting with his son in law, a person I likewise greatly admire, we discussed how the entire family was at peace with the soon to occur passing. I commented that we had lost all 4 of our parents and letting go was a hard thing to do.

Continue reading “The Gift of Letting Go”

Poppi’s Rumblings

Our daughter and her family have been under the weather for a while, courtesy of two kids in Elementary School. In our earliest days of marriage, the Boss Lady began her 26 year career as a public school employee, starting as a First Grade Teacher.
She would spend several weeks to a month on some form of medication from an illness she caught at school and once recovered, become victim of another “bug” of some sort or another. The Germ Scene was alive and well in the elementary grade levels at The Leming School north of Pleasanton, and still is today in Northside ISD in San Antonio.
When I stopped by their house recently to deliver some new meat from the annual ½ a steer we buy from a longtime neighbor and real estate partner, the girls, ages 6 and 8, asked me for an update on what was going on out at our Family Ranch in Miguel. I began my recount and was just getting started when the youngest, Ms. Oakley, turned to her sister, Stevie and asked is Poppi Rumbling again?
Let me give a brief overview of these beloved young ladies personalities. Stevie is a carbon copy, looks and personality of her Mom. Most days are full of rainbows and butterflies. But the occasionally Dark Day hits and it is the End of the World as we know it. Oakley is either going to grow up to become a wonderful health care provider for people or animals OR go on tour as in the Professional Women’s Wrestling Association. Get on her wrong side and it is Katie, Bar the Door!
So, when she asked that question, I admit to being confused. Rumbling is something my Unhappy Tummy does on occasion. Or it is a brawl, or maybe can describe how my old truck sounds on a rough dirt road. But I did not get the use of the word within the aforementioned context.
Stevie giggled that crooked little killer smile of hers and quickly explained that Oakley meant Ramblings. You see Poppi, she said with a grin, Mimi tells us sometimes you get to thinking you are still back in a lecture at your college and forget we are just little kids.
Upon reflection, both her and Mimi are 100% on target with their comments. I can get pretty wordy, either verbally, or with a keyboard. I will TRY to Rumble/Ramble less. But don’t bet the family farm that I will be successful at it!

Get Along There, Cowgirl

Ms. Holder’s story about her Mr. Tucker becoming a cowboy brought back to memory a tale from over a quarter of a century ago regarding another new rider.
Our daughter, now in her late 20’s, was about two years old and being slowly walked around while sitting horseback by herself. She had already been riding in our arms or sitting in a halter slung over the saddle horn for a while. But this “By Myself Daddy” stage was just starting as it related to horses and LOTS of other things.
We had finished up a ride, checking fences and cattle on a couple of pastures, unsaddled our horses, except for Old Sonny. He was a big sorrel gelding that spent virtually all his 27 years on our place. Gentle as could be and a bit on the lazy side, he was the Designated Baby Sitter for our God Children and Children for many years. The other horses had walked back towards the Horse Pasture, but we kept him up so Jessica could walk around bit while sitting alone on his broad.
After a while, I pulled her off, unsaddled and brushed down Sonny, so he could go join his partners. Jessica headed off to “check on the horses” and proceeded to motor along in that unsteady little kid gait that occurs when they are walking on uneven ground in a new kind of footwear for her, called boots.
The trail between the fence and some light brush was kind of narrow in a spot or two and Jessica got ahead of Sonny on that red dirt path.
I watched him get right behind him and patiently let her navigate the journey. Of course, for every step he took she had to take six or eight, so he was mostly on hold waiting to get to his buddies. I noticed he was encouraging her with a very gentle nug to her little back with his nose every few steps.
I quickly walked over and picked her up so he could get by, have a drink at the trough, and then roll like most tired horses like to do. Of course, she was unhappy not to be on the adventure by herself, but I reminded her a good cowhand takes care of the needs of the animals first.
Some readers might think of this event as negligence on my part for allowing the little one to wander on her own and/or to allow the horse behind her so close. Could something bad have happened? Of course, but I knew it would take something VERY unusual for that old gelding to do any harm to her.
And it was important to support her start at independence while she also was beginning to understand the need to take real good care of the animals she loved so much.
These days she is having to teach that lesson to her own young ones. And I hope they figure it out as well as she did.
As an aside, that “funny gait” she demonstrated in those new red boots sure looks a whole lot like how her old Dad walks these days with bad knees and missing toes!

Opening Day on the Sidelines

By the time you kind readers are seeing this, Opening Day of the 2022- 2023 Whitetail Rifle Season will have come and gone. Over the last 60+ years I have only missed a handful of those magical times. This one due to a Big Toe blister which turned into a bone infection. Besides losing half an appendage, the disappointment of being sidelined for a few days at this time of the year is acute.
Let me quickly say there are folks far more inconvenienced and in worse shape than this Old Aggie. But still the “pain” of not being out in La Brasada will be felt. Due to a variety of factors, none of my family or “regular guests” will be out either. I doubt the Venados living out on our little piece of heaven will be watching, nor notice our absence. Although, there have been times during my long hunting career that I have thought those animals have a Bank or Oil Company calendar nailed somewhere on a mesquite tree with that day circled in red! Never have found one but do admit to having my suspicions.
In my efforts to find a bright light in this sudden and unexpected development 48 hours before November 5, I can find one consolation. Maybe the increased activity on surrounding ranches and the potential of a gunshot or two there will “alert” the Big Ones to head over our way for a sanctuary spot along the creek bottom that runs all the way through our place.
Whether that is a delirious pipedream found only in my old brain or a real possibility will likely never be known. But one thing I know FOR SURE. Once that Foot Doc gives me the green light, I won’t waste much time before heading south!

Genetics

After a career in Higher Education that lasted 44 years, I have spent more than a few hours pounding on a typewriter or computer keyboard. 6 different textbooks with 14 editions as author or co-author, plus many professional articles and reports came from those days.
Once finished with that chapter of life, my writing “itch” has been satisfied by doing stories like this one that have accumulated into Volume 1 and 2 of books called Tales From La Brasada with Volume 3 on the horizon. That is not a “sales pitch” as much as an acknowledgment of production.
The Cover Logo for the books is a deer that the Boss Lady killed on our Home Place about a dozen years ago. He has a 5 + inch drop tine that is off his right main beam. Middle aged at the time of his demise, it would have been interesting to see what he might have become if he lived for a couple of more years. Given we have NEVER had anything close to a drop tine buck on that ranch since it became ours in 1938, with yours truly managing it from 1976, I am glad she took the deer.
I put out my first Fall 2022 trail camera about 10 days ago at one of our all year long corn and protein combo feeder spots. We keep it fenced out when cattle are on the place and then open the wide gates once they are gone every September.
Lo and Behold, there appeared several shots of a 10 point that was an almost carbon copy of the previous buck. This one is also middle aged, and I shared his “mug shot” with ALL my regular guests and family members who hunt with me out there. In addition to my antler and age comments, a statement was made that he was 100% Off Limits to anyone that wanted to ever come back through the gate to that property! I can’t control for a moment what happens off our little low fenced place, besides appealing to a couple of neighbors who are also kind of wildlife managers.
I know that fellow may end up miles from our spot come rutting season. Rather than fuss and fume on what I cannot do, I have decided to record my amazement and wonder of Mother Nature. For an almost twin in terms of antler design to appear after 12 years with nothing close to that during that period is remarkable to me.
One of my passions when raising horses for about 40 years was the study of genetics. Truth be told during the 2 Summers down at College Station as part of the Residency requirements for my Doctorate, I spent WAY TOO much time with the Horse Barn and Wildlife Department folks than I should have been doing. But I did manage to learn a good many things that helped me in my mare and stallion choices when raising some really fine saddle horses.
I know there are instances where a genetic trait or characteristic can be latent for years and years. And to reappear all of a sudden for one time, only to then disappear again for a good while.
I believe that is what is happening with this Second Drop Tine buck. But someone much smarter than me might have a better and more accurate perspective. The Boss Lady often says that about 99% of the World’s Population is wiser than me on many things, and I am sure she is correct. But in this instance, I just might be on to something. And if not, it is still sure enough fun to speculate.
One thing I do not have to wonder about is that I know I am looking forward to laying me eyes on that buck. And I cannot wait for that opportunity to arrive!