I just do the tree killing different.Oh, ok...bit of a long story.
A long time ago I went hunting with my cousin and a couple other friends. We got all set up, tree stand the whole nine yards. Spent the remainder of the day huddled around the campfire talking about opening day, the brand new scope I had placed upon my shotgun as an attempt to fix my eye dominance problem and the standard campfire chat. In the morning well before it was light we all headed out to out spots and started the hunt.
Just about light enough to shoot and I hear all kinds of stuff start moving behind me. About ten minutes later I have a doe and a nice buck walk in about 20 yards away, so I pull up on the doe who was leading and think to myself, dang I do this right I am done for this year. I take aim through that spiffy new scope, let the first slug go and immediately take aim on the buck. Blam! Now that is how ya do that there.
Excitement sets in and I can no longer contain it so I climb down from the stand and head to where the doe trail should begin, no sign what so ever. Hmm, well I guess I have a look over here where the buck trail should be...NOTHING. What the...? So I go back to where there should be blood for the doe and still nothing. About that time I decide I better climb back up and look at that sight picture again. Climb up the tree, get set just like I was pulling the trigger and what do I see?
Yep you guessed it a tree branch, not a normal little branch but this branch about four inches in diameter hanging, but still attached and clearly I was the cause. Frustrated I go back to camp and get laughed at by everyone when I tell my story. After dinner, a large number of beers and the coldest night I have been in hunting. My cousin and I decide to sleep in the SUV so that we can head out for home and work when we woke. The next morning I get up head out to relieve myself and upon return to the vehicle I see the very same branch strapped to the roof, like you would your prize kill, and every last one of the guys laughing. They made me ride all the way home with the damn thing strapped to the roof too.
Needless to say the nickname was born and stuck.
Matt