I ended up with guts on my face last year on opening day. I let the day lay for two hours so my buddy could finish hunting. She had started to bloat a little by the time I started to gut her. I opened her up and was talking to my buddy and looked down just as I laid the knife on the stomach. Thanks to a nice preseason edge on the old Schrade, it put a pin hole in her stomach that let it explode some green shit all over me! Thankfully, I have a cast iron stomach because I smelled like guts for another 3-4 hours thanks to running her to the check station and processor, then heading out to track a couple more deer!
The second deer I killed and first solo gut job, I shot with Remington Copper Solid Sabots and I finished him off at close range. The sabot fragmented and popped the stomach. Within my first few cuts on the gut job, I found that out and popped the bladder. I remember my dad laughing as he but a little more distance between my fugged up gut job and himself. He said: "That one is all yours boy!" Again, I am thankful I have a cast iron stomach. Only one thing makes me sick to my stomach and that is listening to people chew food. I have no idea why, but that makes me sick as shit!
The worst gut job I ever had to deal with was last years buck. I will try and give a little history to set this up, because I definitely deserved the way it played out.
I have been in the plumbing heating and cooling business for quite some time. One day me and another guy that is an avid hunter was working in this house that was being gutted so they could renovate the whole house. My friend was on the first floor on a six foot ladder and a hammer busting out the old cast iron sewer line so that we could re-plumb everything with new plastic. Meanwhile I was on the second floor in the bathroom taking up the old toilet. Once I got the toilet disconnected I figured I would just set it in the tub so it would be out of the way for now and not leak nasty old pee water that all the construction workers have been putting in there on the floor. As I was setting it in the tub I lost my footing and my grip on the toilet. CRASH went the toilet into a bunch of piece into the old cast iron tub. All the old nasty pee water goes down the tub drain and you guest it. Right into the face of my buddy Ben. All I can hear is this loud WTF and the starts of some dry heaving. As I come down the steps I look out the picture window on the front of the house and there is Ben, bent over the front porch squealing like a pig puking his guts out. Just as he finishes his puking this dog comes over from next door and decides he would like a warm lunch. This made Ben go right back at it. So from that point on I would always bust his chops by calling out his name as if he where puking by squealing his name BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!!
Fast forward to last Nov. The buck that I dropped had already been gut shot when he came through. Someone had put an arrow in him right in front of his hind quarter. I could not get him to stop until he had past me and was 50 yrds out. He was giving me a hard quartering away shot and I figured he was just going to go somewhere and curl up and die so I figured I would at least try. My arrow went right up his wazzzu. I only had about an inch of arrow till the fletching was going up his butt when I found him. So needless to say I rammed a arrow right through the majority of his guts. I called Ben to come help me haul this brute out of the woods. As I cut into this double gut shot deer I was over whelmed by the wretched smell. I rolled over and start my dry heaving. Meanwhile Ben has the biggest smile on his face, and I am dry heaving and laughing at the same time cause I know the tables have been turned and I was getting what I deserved. I never did actually puke but I sure was dry heaving alot, and Ben was enjoying every minute of it. Ben and I don't work together any more but his wife is a secretary at our shop so I still get to see him and talk with him on occasion and we always have a good belly laugh about that night.