I had a call today at about 2:00 PM from a hunter who had tracked a wounded deer onto my property.
He had my cell phone number from a letter I gave my immediate neighbors. He was the (younger) brother of one of the recipients and had wounded a deer yesterday. They tracked it to the southeast corner of my property. They pushed it off its bed and it ran north. That is when they called me.
The younger brother came over. We made a plan. We executed the plan. Slow and easy. He was the stander. I was the pusher. He got three more shots at 25 yards. She was limping along as quick as she could. He did not think he had hit it. I told him he had (crap, most people have no problem dumping bunnies with a scattergun at that distance). The smart money would have two hits, minimum.
He said it ran back onto his brother's property. I suggested he go home, savor a cup of coffee and then go looking for 140 pounds of brown fur.
My work here is done.