This morning at 7:30 AM I placed a phone call to my brother, Bryson. With a faint whisper, I heard, "Hello?" I asked, "What are you doing?" He said, "I just shot a buck."From there he proceeded to tell me the "story."
Apparently this fearsome, forest-roaming beast was chasing two does when an unexpected bullet fired from a 30/30 (I think) crashed into his chest, shredding his heart thus resulting in immediate death.
Bryson has always been good at what ever he does. He is a hunter. He can fix things. He saves lives (fireman). You name it he can probably do it... or he will tell you he can and then call me to ask, "Hey, how do I do this?" OK, not really but...
Good job, Bryson! When I grow up I want to be like my brother... I'm being serious. I love my lil' brother!
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