Sneed was watching the big treeline and I was watching the back when he reached for his rifle. (not just any rifle, a Cooper 270). Five does popped out of his treeline. They looked back constantly. More were coming. We got situated and he shot the biggest and then a moment later the second biggest. Nothing too it but about 40 yards of tracking down a big blood trail into the brush.
We corned up the feeders, swept the house, bagged the garbage, skinned and quartered the deer, locked the gates and headed to Tyler. That's it for last muddiest, longest, most heavily hunted frustrating deer season in recent memory.