12/09/2025
This. 1000000% this. 💚
With us getting to the time of year when the calls start to slow down, the weight of the season finally has a chance to sink in — every win, every loss, and everything in between.
Tracking isn’t just following blood, reading sign, and walking behind a dog who comes alive the moment the lead clips on.
It’s the weight you carry long before and long after every track.
It’s the phone that stays quiet for days…
and the doubt that grows louder when it does.
It’s pulling onto a property not knowing if you’re walking into a clean lung hit or a shot that never should’ve been taken.
It’s trying to stay professional when you already know the deer’s been grid-searched, bumped, or pushed far past where it should’ve died.
It’s watching your dog work their heart out — nose down, tail steady —
even when the odds are stacked against them.
Even when you can feel in your gut that the story won’t have a clean ending.
It’s walking out of the woods empty-handed,
wondering if you could’ve read one more sign,
checked one more crossing,
given your dog one more minute…
even though you know deep down you did everything you could.
People see the recoveries.
They see the hero shots.
They see the happy endings.
What they don’t see is the heavy stuff —
the emotional drag of the ones you don’t find,
the hours spent replaying the trail in your head,
the responsibility you feel toward the hunter, the dog, and the deer.
But here’s the part that matters:
Even in the slumps… even in the doubt… even on the days you’re mentally drained —
you show up.
Because the work matters.
Because the deer deserves respect.
Because your dog believes in the track with every step they take.
And because the next call —
the next real track —
might be the one that turns everything around.
This is the part nobody talks about.
This is the part only trackers understand.
This is the part that keeps us honest, keeps us humble, and keeps us coming back.
