A year or two ago I was sitting in a new ground blind on a deer trail, in an area full of tall canary grass. It had been a long time since I'd seen deer in the area, and there wasn't much sign, but it is the only place I really have to hunt around here...
I got all settled, all was quiet, and my eyes and ears were peeled. I'm dressed in a couple layers of wool and such, all bundled up and cozy. Suddenly, the alarm on my insulin pump (I'm an insulin-dependent diabetic) starts blaring like I'm about to go into a coma or something. Real quick, I lay my bow down in front of me, fish through 2 pairs of pants and pull out the pump. I push all the right buttons and the alarm turns off. (All of this took about 45 seconds and made a bunch of noise.) Then I look up and there is a nice buck walking -- as if he were in a trance -- right in my shooting lane, not 10 yards from me. But it was no use... I had no chance to pick up my bow and shoot. I watched as he vanished into the 4-foot tall grass.
That was the closest thing to a shot opportunity I had all season.