Utter those three words to a whitetail hunter and watch as they leave reality and go to the brush or woods in their minds. Their mind’s eye has placed them where the big bucks live and breathe. Their re-occurring dream has locked them onto a rutting mossback that has come hell-bent, charging and snorting to the rattling of the horns. They are there; watching, seeing and living what they have so often fantasized. They can feel the biting cold and can see the steam pumping from the flared nostrils. There’s that fury in the monster’s eyes. His neck is swollen to the point of bursting, and those horns; that rack is nothing short of magnificent! All that emotion set off by only three words; Brush Country Monsters.