Originally posted by Cootling:
So yesterday morning one of my coworkers walks into my office in North Dakota and tells me about helping this traditional archer load a mule deer into his truck in Wyoming. It was Mike's deer.
It's a small world, isn't it?
Yes it is. I walked 1/2 mile out to the main road and waited about 45 minutes for a vehicle to pass, Why would I do that? I'm from Michigan, and I flat out refuse to leave anything laying around outside. Too many things can happen, coyotes, bears, wolves or someone even just by chance driving by and because I physically could not lift this brute of a deer up into the back of the Hitch Haul I had on the Tahoe. So I decided to leave the buck at the truck and head off on the quads god gave me.
I flagged down the 1st truck to pass and had a nice chat from a distance. I couldn't ride back to my truck with him (Who could blame him, here is a guy, covered in blood from the elbows down, some on my pants, camo face paint and still on an adrenalin rush). His reason..."My dog is up front".
I'm not gonna argue with a guy willing to help, so I kindly said "Yes Sir. I will be right there in a few minutes". He drove down to my truck as I ran along singing the Survivor song "Eye of the Tiger" as if I was making my own Rocky movie (I think that would make it Rocky 38 by now).
I was so thankful for his help. We shook hands, said our goodbye's and we both moved on. Who would have ever thought it was such a small world.