November's Confused Hunters

"...and that's the story of how I ended up getting lice, as well as several other venearal diseases, during our weekend hunting trip."
Here is a very confusing piece of calender art I found recently while rummaging through boxes of old stag magazines. I bring it to your attention only in the hopes that someone out there can explain to me what's going on here, maybe provide some context.
I see a hunter, reminiscing beside a large fireplace...at the local hunting lodge....scratching his head and staring perplexedly at a photograph of a slain deer which is held at an awkward angle as if suddenly remembering some elusive or embarrassing detail.
"Hmm, nope, doesn't look familiar...but that is my plaid button down shirt though. Well I'll be darned!" Clearly this man had one too many Seagram's golden coolers during his expedition.
Or maybe he's getting choked up, emotional over the memories that haunt him. Memories of accidently killing his own nine year old daughter who decided to dress as Bambi for Halloween that year.
Regardless, he does seem a bit flustered. It's possible, maybe, that the photo came attached with a ransom letter, "Dear Mr. Johnson, if you want to see your son again drop ten thousand in unmarked bills next to that one huge tree in the forest, you know, that one you like to pee on...sincerely, Mr. BelveDeer".
I don't know. Forget I asked.