Was shroomin a couple years ago and had a full sack of fresh yellow morels. I wasn't done picking though and was poking around with my stick on a riverbank when I heard a noise that turned my attention toward the river. just as I turned, a large doe in mid air was just about to land on the bank on top of me! She looked as surprised as I was to see her so unexpectedly, and tried her best to use her air brakes but failed. I backed up a step and felt one of her hooves brush my boot when she landed,then shot away at a right agle from me. Then that sound came again and another deer, smaller and probably her fawn was hurtling toward me over the riverbank. I was a little less suprised this time and reached out and slapped the deer on the rump as it passed. This action caused the deer to kick at me, which caused me to back up one step to many, to avoid being kicked! As I fell toward the river I had time to wonder if petting wild animals was really such a good idea?
I hit flat on my back in soft slippery mud and shot toward the water, managing to roll to my stomach I sped like an otter toward a swim. I managed to dig in my toes and stop short of the water, but then I noticed my morel bag floating by! I was laughing until now! This is serious! Three gallons of morels adrift!
If you've never lay flat on river mud, inches from a flooded river, upside down, you won't appreciate how hard it is to get up! When you put your weight on your hands to pick yourself up you will find that they sink to your shoulders! And when you move your legs you feel that you will continue to slide down. I finally managed to roll/swim two yds to my right where a tree root was at hand, otherwise I might still be there or the gulf of Mexico by now. I climbed roots up and over the bank and ran downstream to mount a search and rescue mission for a white mesh bag containing a whole mornings work.
Now over the years I've learned to use those zip closed lingerie laundery bags from Wal Mart and keep them zipped nearly closed leaving just enough room to put shrooms in. This was probably the tenth time I'd dropped shroom bags into the water and I'd learned long ago how tough it is to rescue individual morels, and how devastating the loss is to the failed rescuer. The stories I could tell! Anyway I found my bag snagged on a root not far away, and on a less muddy portion of bank. After a non-eventfull rappell using a bent over sappling I managed to save it and all it's contents. I headed to a sandbar further down bathed and rinsed my clothes and wrung out my undies to drive home in. Having avoided other mushroom hunters, or any embarrassing traffic stops, the story ends with me arriving safe and happy, (if soggy) back at my house. A fairly ordinary outing for me. It is truely a wonder how I got o be 40 years old!

That is hilarious i bet that deer was all sorts of confused.

Now that is a fantastic story I am glad to hear after all that you were able to save the mornings hunt.