I remember the first time I got busted. If memory serves me correctly, I was about 17 years old. I was minding my own business, my Bear Kodiak recurve bow in hand. I’d taken up a position in a ground blind — a naturally growing entanglement of grapevines and greenbrier. My hopes were that I was prepared to outsmart a wily whitetail. I had my license, a deer permit and written permission to be on the property. I’d walked into the area so there was no parking issue with where I’d left the old ’68 Impala I sometimes drove. I didn’t leave a gate open and I couldn’t have imagined that most folks would even know I was there.
I was seated on a stump padded by one of those butt-warming cushions once popular with hunters. My back was against a huge oak, tucked neatly behind that greenbrier screen. It wasn’t our family’s La-Z-Boy, but it allowed me to keep an eye on what I imagined to be a good spot to see a deer. I was soon to discover that it was an even better site to see squirrels. Fox squirrels were busily rustling around the woodlot looking for fallen acorns — a nice distraction during those quiet morning hours. As more of their cohorts joined the search, the fragile crispness of the dry leaves caused them to sound like a herd of grazing elephants. They seemed to be developing some nefarious plan to surround me and their antics transitioned from entertaining to annoying.
One squirrel became particularly brave. It did its dig-scamper-rustle routine to within touching distance, circled around me then magically disappeared. Before long, I heard him startup again, right behind me — and it sounded like he brought along a couple more of his pals. Leaves would rustle, then the squirrel would give it a rest as I imagined him chewing on a hickory nut or acorn: rustle stop, rustle, stop rustle… getting ever closer. Now, I had nothing against squirrels gathering their dinner and winter stores, but this was getting under my skin. It wouldn’t be long before every animal within 10 miles would be suspicious of what this squirrel was up to. I finally made the decision to tell it to go find another nut tree.
I turned slowly and with a quiet “Hey, you!” I came face-to-face — or rather face to big, black, wet nose — of a very large, matronly doe. Two things immediately occurred, she flipped her tail skyward and vanished and I broke my school’s high-jump record. In deer hunter’s terms, she busted me. This was also the first deer I’d actually ever seen while bow hunting. I needed to learn something more about whitetails and a whole lot more about deer hunting.
A few years ago, Ohio Department of Natural Resources Division of Wildlife staff writer, Tony Bresnen, wrote about how deer communicate and react to their surroundings and shared the information in Wild Ohio Magazine. It’s sort of a tale of the tail.
Side to side (wagging): A side to side or wagging tail is a good sign meaning that they are likely at ease and unalarmed. Some deer wag more than others, often to chase flies just as a horse does with its tail. Time to get in position with slow movements.
Tail half-lifted: Usually the first sign that a deer senses danger. It may hold the tail straight out horizontally, drop it and then raise it again. Sometimes the tail comes up slowly, as the deer applies all of its senses in the direction of the potential danger. Other body language, such as stiffened legs, might tell you that the deer senses something is wrong, though it can’t quite figure out exactly what it is. This is the time to sit tight.
Tail flat: A deer that holds its tail flat against its body is typically hiding and aware of a threat at close range. The tail remains flat or tucked against the deer’s backside, and only the outer brown fur of the tail can be seen. This deer probably knows you are close by either scent, sight or has been alerted by other deer or animals.
Tail flagging: A flagging deer holds its tail vertically, exposing the white fur of the tail and the backside. The tail may also be wagged from side to side while flagging. Tail flagging is commonly used when deer are fleeing an area, and helps other members of the herd locate each other. When running through deep thickets and brush, a doe’s tail flagging helps the fawn stay close. They’re out of here, better luck next time.
I wish that there was a Wild Ohio Magazine when I was a kid. I could have used Bresnen’s insight on whitetails’ tails. Unfortunately, my generation fell between the once very popular Ohio Conservation Bulletin and the newer and colorful Wild Ohio Magazine. Wild Ohio is an ad-free publication that provides readers an entertaining look into Ohio’s wildlife opportunities, from bird and wildlife watching to hunting and fishing. Published by ODNR’s Division of Wildlife, the magazine is delivered to your mailbox six times per year.
If you’d like to subscribe to Wild Ohio Magazine and catch some of the many interesting articles and fantastic photos of Ohio’s wildlife, there are three options to get signed up — and it’s cheap!
1. Perhaps the easiest access to Wild Ohio Magazine is through the HuntFish OH mobile app available for your smartphone. It’s free to download for both Android and I-Phone, just search for HuntFish OH. Once installed, you can subscribe to Wild Ohio Magazine, purchase fishing and hunting licenses and permits, Wildlife Legacy Stamps, download wildlife area maps, check your deer and turkeys, report wildlife sightings and so much more.
2. Go to any store selling hunting and fishing licenses and sign-up to receive the magazine.
3. Sign up through the Ohio Wildlife Licensing System to purchase a subscription at www.wildohio.gov and hit the “Buy hunting or fishing license” tab. The cost is still just $5. You can also call 1-800-WILDLIFE for instructions about a mail-in subscription, but the cost jumps to $10.
“I don’t have to take a trip around the world or be on a yacht in the Mediterranean to have happiness. I can find it in the little things, like looking out into my backyard and seeing deer in the fields.”
— Queen Latifah
