Mule deer vs. Old Fart

I was reading Curmudgeonisms yesterday. He had a story up about an old man walking a deer to the truck. It made me remember a story that a complete stranger told me about my own grandfather.
I was working for a contractor at Intell in Rio Rancho. The line foreman asked me if I was related to a certain man that was my granpa. After I admitted it he told me this story. Which, after no small amount of badgering, was confirmed from the horses, well mules mouth.
In the early seventies, the were still a lot of mule deer here. Not 20 miles away from Belen. Mule deer, or real deer, are twice the size as those dogs with antlers they call white tails. My grandfather and an group of about 10 other hunters went to fourth of July canyon in the manzano mountains. The hunters faned out, each going off in a different direction. After awhile my grandpa saw and shot a large eight piont buck. He shot him with a large caliber rifle, but when he walked up on the deer it got up. And just stood there. My grandfather, being about 6 miles from the truck grabbed the deer by the tail and started pushing him down the mountain. Things went well until they got about halfway there. The buck stopped shook its head and snapped out of it. When it noticed the 6' tall man holding its tail it took evasive action. Turning and knocking him down, in a large prickly pear catus, started to stager back up the moutain. My grandpa, got up and shot him again. Killing him this time. He got him home.
All this would be funny, except about 5 years later, in the same canyon he did the same thing. Only he missed the catus that time.