Missing Muntjac

Over a beer or three in Texas, I confessed to headkeeper Martin Broad that I’d never shot Britain’s smallest deer, the non-native Muntjac. He’s taken the bit between his teeth, and I’ve spent several evenings ensconced in a high seat in one of his woods. Contrary to my wife’s belief that prey are oddly attracted to me, hence my luck with rod, rifle and gun, I can’t seem to shoot a munty. We’ve seen plenty of fallow and roe, including some stunning Gold Medal roe that are for sale, but only the rapidly retreating behinds of muntys. If I stay home, everyone shoots munty. I’m developing a complex. If you fancy an evening (or morning for that matter) stalk, for cull or trophy beast, get in touch. Unless, of course, you want that munty buck Martin’s saving for me…

This entry was written by Howard, posted on April 16, 2008 at 3:37 pm, filed under Stalking and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post. Both comments and trackbacks are currently closed.