A Tale of two Tails
“It was the best of times it was the worst of times”
5:30 AM t’was a misty overcast morning as I waited for my young 59-year-old partner to arrive for our foray into the new hunting grounds. When he arrived he was so excited the he was peeing a ring around himself. We had another hour of driving ahead of us and it was spent discussing local and national news. Oh hell no, it was “what ya shootin, my Cricket .22 and 18 JB’s but I got my Renegade just in case. Well I have my Streamline .22 with the big ass scope and my little .22 Contour. Don’t know what we will see.”
We arrive and gates locked nobody about. WTF says Mike. He starts to shake like he has the DT’s. “It’s ok buddy the guy just texted me he is 5 minutes out.” Kids nowadays!
We meet and got the lay of the land, cows, horses, pigs, chickens, geese, puppy, and crap strewn everywhere. “ I got trouble with ground squirrels, rats, wabbies, and god knows what else. Killem all! “Just be careful and don’t shoot the livestock”
We set up, and based on the terrain we both took out small walk around guns. Right away we spotted about 10,000 starlings. Mike started to shiver and shake again so he needed a quick fix. After about 20 kills with a couple of doubles he was back in control.
Now for squirrels, we each took off in different directions and soon encountered wabbies. Poor things! Then bushy tails started popping up. Within 2 hours it was time to air up and grab more ammo. Off again in opposite directions. What the hell is that under the lumber pile? Biggest damn squirrel I ever saw. SMACK…. Holy crap no bushy tail. Something yanked all the fur off. OMG it is mister king rat, 6 or 8 more smacks and a pile of daylight raider rats killed during their charge. My little gun only holds 6 rounds. I was moving fast changing mags and reloading. When the dust cleared I could still smell the damn pigs so I knew I was alive. I smiled and needed a break.
Looked for the kid and we met up for a break, a snack, and some cold water. Mike had de-virginized the Cricket. Some number in the teens of furry corpses fell to his malady.
The tone now changed as we plotted our strategy for the next assault. “I’ll take over watch and you plug the escape route, “ says Mike OK sounds good.
Now for the best of times! The kid is up high on the dike and I creep along batting cleanup. poop starts to happen! Furry tailed bastards explode in all directions. But we got them in crossfire and the kid is mister sniper personified!!!! We are a killing machine tuned and in sync. Smack Smack Smack over and over. Reload pause start up again and we are the Grim Reaper! Three trips through the valley of death and we are spent!
Amazed at how much fun the closed range snapshooting was. It far outdid the thrill of a long shot. This was killing or be trampled and kicked into the hog slop. No time to adjust parallax, range find, adjust scope. Self-defense that had adrenaline coursing through your veins. Teamwork. The Thrill lasted for hours.
Plans are underway to make a fur nutsack pouches for sale to help fund further expeditions. The next journey may have some photos and will be even more exciting. Count on it.
The author readily admits to some minor enhancements of the facts.
“It was the best of times it was the worst of times”
5:30 AM t’was a misty overcast morning as I waited for my young 59-year-old partner to arrive for our foray into the new hunting grounds. When he arrived he was so excited the he was peeing a ring around himself. We had another hour of driving ahead of us and it was spent discussing local and national news. Oh hell no, it was “what ya shootin, my Cricket .22 and 18 JB’s but I got my Renegade just in case. Well I have my Streamline .22 with the big ass scope and my little .22 Contour. Don’t know what we will see.”
We arrive and gates locked nobody about. WTF says Mike. He starts to shake like he has the DT’s. “It’s ok buddy the guy just texted me he is 5 minutes out.” Kids nowadays!
We meet and got the lay of the land, cows, horses, pigs, chickens, geese, puppy, and crap strewn everywhere. “ I got trouble with ground squirrels, rats, wabbies, and god knows what else. Killem all! “Just be careful and don’t shoot the livestock”
We set up, and based on the terrain we both took out small walk around guns. Right away we spotted about 10,000 starlings. Mike started to shiver and shake again so he needed a quick fix. After about 20 kills with a couple of doubles he was back in control.
Now for squirrels, we each took off in different directions and soon encountered wabbies. Poor things! Then bushy tails started popping up. Within 2 hours it was time to air up and grab more ammo. Off again in opposite directions. What the hell is that under the lumber pile? Biggest damn squirrel I ever saw. SMACK…. Holy crap no bushy tail. Something yanked all the fur off. OMG it is mister king rat, 6 or 8 more smacks and a pile of daylight raider rats killed during their charge. My little gun only holds 6 rounds. I was moving fast changing mags and reloading. When the dust cleared I could still smell the damn pigs so I knew I was alive. I smiled and needed a break.
Looked for the kid and we met up for a break, a snack, and some cold water. Mike had de-virginized the Cricket. Some number in the teens of furry corpses fell to his malady.
The tone now changed as we plotted our strategy for the next assault. “I’ll take over watch and you plug the escape route, “ says Mike OK sounds good.
Now for the best of times! The kid is up high on the dike and I creep along batting cleanup. poop starts to happen! Furry tailed bastards explode in all directions. But we got them in crossfire and the kid is mister sniper personified!!!! We are a killing machine tuned and in sync. Smack Smack Smack over and over. Reload pause start up again and we are the Grim Reaper! Three trips through the valley of death and we are spent!
Amazed at how much fun the closed range snapshooting was. It far outdid the thrill of a long shot. This was killing or be trampled and kicked into the hog slop. No time to adjust parallax, range find, adjust scope. Self-defense that had adrenaline coursing through your veins. Teamwork. The Thrill lasted for hours.
Plans are underway to make a fur nutsack pouches for sale to help fund further expeditions. The next journey may have some photos and will be even more exciting. Count on it.
The author readily admits to some minor enhancements of the facts.
