Back in 2002, my oldest son was hired to remodel some living quarters on a south Texas ranch. The owner wanted to be able to offer trophy deer hunts and needed the facilities to be upgraded.

I went down there to help him, and we worked every day until about 4 o'clock. After that, we were free to use the owner's top drive to tour the 12,000 acre ranch and do as much varmint hunting as we wanted. On a typical evening, we would see deer, dove, quail, hogs, coyotes, javelina, bobcats, foxes, rabbits, and a few snakes. To the average hunter, it was like going to heaven without dying first.

One evening, the owner told my son he could hunt the next day for a cull buck. Since my son had total access to the place, he told me he would let me harvest a cull and he would video tape the hunt. Of course, on that ranch, a cull buck is anything below a 160 class.

The next morning, the ranch manager dropped us off at one of the ground blinds and told us he would return around 10 o'clock. We sat in the stand as the sun came up, watching hogs, foxes, and a few coyotes crossing the road in front of us. this went on for a couple of hours, and my son taped a lot of their activities.

Around 9 o'clock, we saw some movement down the road and could tell it was a deer trying to decide whether or not to cross the road. Within a few minutes, a really nice 10 point came out. He was less than 100 yards away, and repeatedly offered a broadside view. As my son taped, I raised the 300 Winmag into position for a shot. That's when my son said I better not shoot because the deer was "too good" to be a cull. He assumed the owner would not be happy if I shot one of his money deer.

We spent the next twenty minutes watching the buck criss-cross the road, totally oblivious to our presence. As time passed, he inched closer to the stand until he was within twenty yards of us. Suddenly, his ears went up, and with a flick of his tail he disappered into the heavy brush. Moments later, we heard the approaching ranch truck that had sent him into retreat.

The truck stopped and the ranch manager and owner got out. We exited the stand and the owner asked if we had seen anything. My son told him about the deer, and that we had it on video. He also told him we passed on it because it was not a cull. The owner and manager looked at the video replay for a minute and the owner said, "You should've taken it. He ain't gonna get any better and I sure can't charge clients for a deer like that."

In an instant, my south Texas heaven became a south Texas hell. And, I've never ceased to remind my son of the missing of an opportunity for a really good buck. I guess that's his form of hell from now on.