Funny story from my youth.
I started this thread to avoid hijacking the aggressive deer thread. This was initially going to be a reply to that thread but it grew and grew. I decided to put it here. Enjoy.
As a teen I had to kill a wounded doe with a knife. I shot her on the run and had broken her back. I was 13 and my dad had only given me 3 rounds of ammo (sort of like Barney Fife). I hit her on my first shot and was so excited that I missed while trying to finish her with my remaining two shots.
Even with her back legs paralyzed she gave me a run for the money. She gave me more fight than I wanted but I got it done. I had to circle her until I was behind her and then I pounced on her and finished her off. It was a true fight to the death (for her). I had plenty of bruises and a gash in my left hand but in the end I put the meat on the table.
I was pretty proud that I had harvested that doe. I did it completely on my own with no help. I dressed her and drug her back to the truck on my own too. As a boy turning into a young man I felt 50 feet tall when my dad told me the two simple words...."Well done."
Years later folks still get a good laugh out of the story and the place where I killed that deer is now named after my epic battle (in deer camp terminology).