My trophy deer is not all that impressive to look at. It was back in Dec of 2014 when I killed him. In July of that year I’d been diagnosed with a rare, aggressive form of leukemia called T-cell ALL. I’d been making trips to Emory about every 21 days for my chemo. I’d stay in the hospital for 4 days taking chemo pretty much around the clock. My blood counts would crash, recover, and then it was time to do it again. By Dec I was having to have blood and platelets transfusions because my body couldn’t keep up. I was very short of breath, couldn’t walk very far, and bruised very easily, but I wanted to go hunting. I would always have a few good days before having to go back to Emory, when I actually felt halfway normal. I got my old .243 I’d used as a kid because I knew it wouldn’t kick very hard. I’d drive my truck out to a clump of bushes in the middle of a field and would park. It made a pretty good blind. Right before dark every evening a bunch of does would come out. It wasn’t “real” hunting, but I was determined that cancer wouldn’t rob me of everything I enjoyed. Finally one evening the does came out, and this little buck came out chasing them. I though “I know he’s not real big, but how many people taking the treatments I am get this opportunity?” I shot and he ran out of the field and into some set out pines. I walked over to where he went out and found blood. I was hassling for air and felt a little dizzy, but tracked him a little ways in the woods and found him. I called my dad and he came and drug him out and loaded him. My wife put the horns into a wreath that we use around Christmas. Serves as a reminder of where we have been, and where God has brought us. February will be two years since I had any type of chemo, and I’m still cancer free. What’s your trophy deer?