Southern deer hunt story

That was a great story, one that got me a bit melancholy, because my Grandfather died the same way in 1967. The club was running with dogs that day too when "Pap" shot and killed a 6 point with his Belgian Browning. After making sure the deer was dead he walked back, picked up the empty casing and slid it onto his pudgy carpenter's pinkie finger and promptly died of a heart attack. He was 79, and we speculate that he was going to boast that he only needed one load of buckshot from his beloved Browning to stop the running deer. He was another true Southern gentleman, and is sorely missed even after 45 years.
 
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