“Ever notice how everyone always wants to go to the far ends of the property when they hunt?” asked Craig Archer, who heads up the Hargrove Ranches in the lower Texas Panhandle. I nodded an affirmative.

“In so doing, they often drive by some of the best hunting on the ranch.” Chimed in David Archer, Craig’s brother and hunt manager. Again I nodded. “For instance, take a look out the kitchen window.”

The sun was about to drop into the double fork of the Brazos River badlands as I walked toward the window. My hunt would start in the morning. Craig, David, and cameraman Jeremiah Bennett had been catching up on past adventures over a strong cup of cowboy coffee. Jeremiah followed me to the window.

Merely a few feet away in the front yard stood a mule deer buck with wide and massive antlers. He had three points plus brow tines on each side. His main beam spread was outside his ears. To say he was handsome would have been an understatement.

The mule deer rut was just beginning. We watched as the buck checked on each of the nearly twenty does in the ranch house’s yard. Younger and lesser antlered bucks moved away as he walked toward or by them.

I slid out a side door, camera in hand and took some quick photos. Then headed back into the house. By then Craig and David were busy starting an evening meal of some of the finest steaks possible anywhere. Jeremiah poured both he and I a small glass of “safe water” and handed mine to me.

A short time later we sat down for supper; beef tenderloin, wrapped in bacon and cook over an open fire, along with all “the fixins”.

“What do you think of that wide buck?” asked Craig.

“He is one good looking handsome rascal; I’ll say that much!” I replied and questioned, “When did he show up and have you seen him in the past?”

“Do you remember that nice three-by-three we saw three years ago, in the canyon right behind camp?” I nodded, indeed I recalled him. That buck had three points per side and was at least 20-inches wide, a great looking young buck. Craig continued. “Think it’s the same buck. You noticed his one side is not quite as tall as the other?” Again I nodded. “That young buck three years ago was shaped very much the same as the one you saw outside the window this evening, only now he’s a whole lot bigger and wider. Looking at him this afternoon he looks like a five- or six-year-old to me, do you agree?”

“Yes Sir, and now that you mention it, he indeed does look a lot like that young buck. Surely had grown up nicely.” Then I added, “I don’t remember seeing him the last two years. But then too, we really did not hunt that canyon.”

“He showed up here at the house about a week ago. He comes by to check on the does that stay here around the house, but it’s usually after dark. The last couple of days he’s been showing up just before sundown and occasionally very early morning. I have no idea where he goes during daylight hours, but I doubt he’s going far.”

Jeremiah chimed in, “Surely he would look good on camera if we can find him while we’re hunting…” I smiled and agreed.

Talk drifted to other bucks David and Craig had been seeing, including a massive five-by-five, including brow tines. He had come by to check on the house does during mid-day a few days ago. From their description I hoped he was one we would indeed be able to see again.

Sitting around the fire after supper, “Larry, I think we might have seen this wide buck occasionally here at camp, but only after dark. We occasionally leave some corn in the backyard for the does. But I’ve been thinking about it and I am pretty sure we have seen him the last couple of years. Remembering seeing a pretty buck with three points per side, each year a little bigger and wider. But he would only show up around here after dark.”

“Did I ever tell you about a buck we had on one of the ranches I used to manage in the Hill Country?” I asked.

“If you’ve told them, I have never heard it.” Interjected Jeremiah.

On one of the ranches I used to manage, the foreman’s wife found a buck fawn, which she bottle-raised in their house. Along with milk the fawn, who she named Ricky, was fed bananas, Dorito chips and Purina dog chow. He was not unlike a house pet.

Ricky as a yearling had eight-points, and hung around the foreman’s house daily eating his banana, two handfuls or Dorito chips and a big cup of Purina dog chow. The following antler season he had 10 points, and still hung almost exclusively around the foreman’s home, and each day coming for his daily meal. When he was three, he again had 10 points but with a 20-inch spread. Ricky could be found almost anytime of the day around the foreman’s home. That winter it was decided the ranch would be used to entertain hunting clients.

The foreman’s wife came to me and told me under no way would anyone be allowed to shoot Ricky, no matter how big his rack would be the next year. She was quite adamant what she would do to anyone who harmed “her deer”!

I thought long and hard what I could do to prevent one of the hunting guests from shooting the pet, knowing he would likely have a considerably better and most impressive rack that fall. Finally, I reached a decision. I called the local warden and told him I wanted to catch the ranch pet, freeze brand him on both sides with a huge “NO”, and put two large orange cattle ear tags in his ears. He suggested I contact the Austin headquarters. I did and got permission to do as I wanted to as part of an existing research permit I had.

That winter I caught Ricky, shaved the hair from his sides, freeze branded him with “NO” on both sides (the freeze-branded area, when the hair came back white, so the “NO” was quite obvious. I also put two large orange cattle ear-tags in his ears. Thusly, marked no one could mistake Ricky for another deer.

Ricky that year grew a rack that would have scored in the 160s Boone & Crockett. Throughout the antler growing season he hung around the foreman’s home. About the time when the velvet was ready to come off his antlers, Ricky went entirely nocturnal. He would show up at the foreman’s house an hour after dark, eat the banana, Dorito chips and Purina dog chow left for him. He would hang around the house, often bed right next to it. An hour before the slightest hint of the coming day, Ricky would leave and disappear. The hunting season came and went with any hunters spending time on the ranch, none ever saw Ricky during daylight hours. But nearly every night he would come to the foreman’s house. The first week of February Ricky again could be seen throughout daylight hours, until the last days of September. Then he only visited the foreman’s home at night during darkness and be gone again before first light, not to be seen during daylight hours. Come February there he was again…

During the ensuing years, Ricky’s rack grew in size. In his best years it would have easily scored in the low 180s. And interestingly during the months of late September into early February, Ricky was never seen during daylight hours. Outside of those month’s he acted like a domestic pet… Even if the hunters had wanted to take Ricky, none ever saw him while hunting.

We never did learn where Ricky went during daylight hours during the hunting seasons. I tried following him several times, but he always gave me the slip.

“I wonder if the wide three-by-three will be like that Ricky buck?” asked David.

“I guess we’ll see what the house buck does. We’ll be looking for him.” said Craig.

Jeremiah and I nodded in agreement!