The steely-eyed huntress spotted her prey.  Stalking slowly forward, trying not to draw attention to her movements, she flowed toward the target with the sinuous physical grace that is one of the prime attributes of the female hunter.  In mere moments, the prize would be hers.

It has been said, only partly in jest, that the female is the most dangerous of the species.  Regardless if you are speaking of spiders or soccer moms, there is a grain of truth in the stereotype.  Nowhere is this more evident than in the women hunter. With single-minded purpose, she sets her sights on the quarry and will not waiver until it is bagged and tagged.

While men are often burdened with spurious machismo driven by testosterone, the women hunter has no such emotional baggage.  Speaking from experience, the female hunter often learns faster, shoots better and is more sensitive to her surroundings than the average man.  Though sometimes denigrated by men, the women should take a back seat to no one on the hunting ground.

I was reminded of this while speaking to a lady friend about her experiences on opening day.

She began the day in the single-digit hours of the morning with four friends.  The five women crammed into a van that carried them through the night to their chosen hunting area that had been carefully selected and scouted for many days prior.  Upon arrival they found the public grounds were already crowded.  Not surprisingly, there were many other ladies like themselves, groggy-eyed and coffee-powered, waiting until those opening moments that had been anticipated for the past 364 days.

My friend and her partners dressed sensibly and carried all the necessary tackle in their shoulder bags.  They were well aware that once the expedition started there would be no stopping for trivialities such as blisters, thirst or hunger.  Once the hunt started, it was every woman for herself and woe to the straggler.

As the appointed hour arrived, the ladies fanned out and each began the stalk within seconds of leaving their vehicle.  My friend was lucky; she spotted a trophy within 100 yards of their vehicle.

She carefully maneuvered to cut off any chance of escape or another hunter swooping in to take the prize in the highly competitive arena.  In her hand, the well-used weapon was held in a firm but relaxed grip.  After a few moments of the internal argument concerning whether she should bag this particular prey so soon on opening morning or wait for a better one, the decision was made.  The moment of truth had arrived.

With a swift downward motion, the credit card was swiped.  Before the gorgeous cashmere sweater could even understand what had happened, it was boxed, gift-wrapped and thrown into a plastic sack within the blink of an eye.  The female hunter had scored a trophy.

OK, OK; before you begin writing drool-soaked letters of complaint about the unfairness of stereotyping women as incessant shoppers, let me explain.

For years I have endured gentle (and occasionally not-so-gentle) ribbing from various females in my life about our annual opening day of deer season tradition of waking up before dawn to meet the guys for breakfast before spending the entire day sitting in a tree like a knot(head). To non-hunting mothers, wives and girlfriends, such rituals seem a little silly and something that only knuckle-dragging men could enjoy.

For uncounted years I have quietly smiled during such interrogation sessions, biting my tongue through the badgering until I suddenly realized that women too have their own opening day of hunting season: Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving and the traditional busiest shopping day of the year.   Now, I realized, the shoe is on the other foot!

So, gentlemanly readers, whenever the ladies besmirch your sterling character with barbs about the general silliness and pointless mystique that surrounds the opening day of deer season, just remind them that they too have a comparable holiday that is just as filled with odd ritual, incomprehensible excitement and dubious worth.

Thus, we must remember that both sexes have their strange little habits and pleasures that make no sense to the opposite gender.  The point here is that we should accept and even celebrate the differences between men and women, reveling in the uniqueness that makes the stew of life so interesting and occasionally spicy.   Hopefully we can all understand that the hunt, whether shooting a magazine-cover buck or bagging a heavily-discounted copy of the ”EyeballGouger2008″ videogame for little Timmy, is just as meaningful in its own way to those seeking their respective trophy.

On a basic human level, we evolved from hunters and the urge is still present within everyone.  There should be no ridicule in that.

Granted, I won’t try to defend men who practice turkey calls in the house.

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