
In the aftermath that saw a legendary deer illegally killed with help from an aerial spy, a quiet rebellion is now brewing in the cornfields and deer woods of rural Indiana. With his 17-point headgear, the massive deer became a local celebrity, frequently spotted traversing the wooded terrain and open prairie near the Nucor steel fabrication plant just outside of Madison.
For weeks in the fall of 2025, residents watched a drone shadowing the animal like some sort of persistent Tinder date. Then, just as “luck” would have it, the deer hit the dirt on opening day of the 2025 crossbow season, ushering in a flurry of suspicion and an investigation into the quick kill.
With a rolodex worth of tips from concerned citizens about unmanned flying objects seemingly tracking the deer’s every move, officers looked to the skies and eventually seized videos, photos, and flight logs from a suspect’s drone. That evidence soon revealed that the drone had patterned the deer nearly every day during the 14-day period before the season opened—a direct violation of state law.
The investigation went on to implicate cousins Rodney and Eric Pettit who had been running the recon mission from the ground. According to reports and court records, Rodney, who owned the drone and delivered the kill shot, got probation, lost his hunting license for a year, and saw his newly-minted trophy antlers confiscated for the DNR’s poacher-shaming tour.
Eric, a reserve officer with the Jennings County Sheriff’s Department, entered a pretrial diversion program that could lead to dismissal of his charges if conditions are met. Chalking it up to a rookie mistake, Eric ran cover for his cousin, stating that he was unfamiliar with the law’s details.

Eric Petitt
“There’s the spirit of the law and the letter of the law,” he told reporters. “(My cousin) broke the letter of the law, one hundred percent. But he did it unknowingly. His character is not one that is, you know, a law breaker.”
Conservation Officer Josh Thomas, who led the investigation, called the case a clear example of unfair advantage. He described the drone data as turning the hunt into an “unfair chase” rather than anything remotely symbolizing fair pursuit. The case made waves as the first deer-hunting prosecution under Indiana’s drone restrictions, which were originally passed in 2016 and later strengthened in 2024.
While the Nucor Monarch case spotlighted hunting issues, farmers in northeastern Indiana have raised parallel alarms. Reports have since flooded in of drones flying over barns, hovering near livestock, and in some cases entering poultry facilities. The high-flying action has farmers worried about biosecurity risks, and even described the size of one drone as “about as large as a small car.”
Now that farmers are testifying before legislative committees about drones buzzing barns with no operators in sight, Indiana lawmakers have since responded on two fronts. The existing drone-hunting ban already prohibits using unmanned aircraft to track wildlife during the 14 days before and throughout the season. The Nucor Monarch case tested and reinforced that framework.
For farms, a new law, incorporated into House Bill 1249 and signed earlier this year, takes effect on July 1st. It expands Indiana’s “remote aerial harassment” statute to cover livestock, crops, and farm operations. Operating a drone over private property with intent to harass or disturb animals, damage crops, or interfere with agricultural activity is now a Class A misdemeanor, punishable by up to one year in jail and a $5,000 fine.
The experiment in rural Indiana could end up being a good litmus test for additional regulations across the country. With states making a meaningful effort to fill in the gaps missed by the feds, the hope here is to attempt to balance innovation with basic human decency. And while that might be a tall order in 2026, conservation officers and lawmakers are leaning on the high-profile prosecution and updated statutes to do just that.

