The last man on Earth will have a coyote and a cockroach for company!” There’s a lot of insight to that old saying. Since Europeans first set foot on this continent, the hand of every man has been turned against the coyote. He has been shot, trapped, poisoned, hounded and persecuted in every way imaginable for centuries.

Anote in a recent magazine stated that the feral hog has become the second-most popular big-game animal in California. It struck me that he may be approaching that status in Texas, too … if not also in Arkansas, Florida, Georgia and several other Appalachian states.

For me, the end of deer season always signals the beginning of predator-calling season. January and February are the lean months, when victuals are scarce for all Nature’s critters. That makes the squeal of a wretched rabbit (or a reasonably good facsimile thereof) attractive to the meat-eaters.

As a deer hunter, you're in the mainstream of American history, a contributor, a steward of the resource, on the cutting edge of wildlife management, an instrument of conservation, and a conduit of honorable tradition. Be Proud.

Whitetail bucks are remembered for many different reasons. Some represent a "First" or a personal best in a hunter's life. Others are memorable because of some physical characteristic, or for their legendary elusiveness.

Some find it as hard to imagine a time when there was no such thing as a manufactured tree stand, tripod or portable blind as they do accepting that a majority of deer hunters might ever have scorned the use of scopes.

Preaching, owning a cat, joining a nudist colony, and teaching your wife to shoot are all activities requiring a durable and deep-bottomed ego. I don't know much about the first three, but I am a brass-bound, pluperfect expert at the last-mentioned!