Well, I couldn't do it during the Deer season - but I did it today. My wife and I were bringing St. Patty's Day and Easter decorations out of our storage shed today, when she almost ran over me, hastily exiting the shed, saying that there was a"Racoon" in there. I said "Where," with a hint of disbelief in my voice, I fear - (DUH!). She told me, in no uncertain terms, that it was up in the corner, staring at her and making nasty sounds. Swiftly, seeing the better judgement of action, I jumped into the frey, as it were. Sure enough, eyes staring from the top of our piled up "junk" back in the far left corner. Baleful eyes, fixing me with a threatening, "I dare you," scrutiny. BUT I saw no Mask. Being the alert and astute observer of wildlife that I am, as soon as my eyes became adjusted to the dim interior a little, I quickly informed her that her Racoon was a large Possum. Would you believe that gentle woman (loudly) didn't give a - - - care?
"Just get it out of there!"
Well I gotta tell you that guy (turned out to be a big ol' boar) was obviously very comfortable on a bed of stuffing he had torn out of a large old stuffed archery target, that I had stored in there. It was imediatly obvious that he was of no inclination to leave peacefully. I asked Rose to keep an eye on him while I went to get my bow. She quickly replied, again in no uncertain terms, with just where I could go. I opted to go get my bow anyway. Meanwhile she "urged" me to not take all day, if I didn't mind too much.
Anyway it was no easy shot, though close; what with all kinds of things sticking up between it and my only reasonable position, which was outside the door, due to lack of height inside, and against the jamb, so I could see down the side into "his' corner. Things, like what turned out to be a metal clothes rack, which deflected my first two shots into a two x four in the corner just behind him (liked to have never got 'em out). I reached for my third self made Cane arrow but about that time Rose, showing better sense and presence of mind than some others on the scene, that I could mention, shone a flashlight over my shoulder. I briefly wondered when she had gone and got that. Oh well, now I could see, and knew what that metalic sound had been caused by, that had deflected my trusty Canes from my more than accurate use of my trusty "Sneaky Snake" Osage. My third Cane vindicated me (and the use of the flashlight), and appeased the spirit of the bow (I hope). It entered just behind the critters ear.
Durn, Those ol' boars are hard to kill. Rose tapped my shoulder again - she' was getting real pesky, I thought, untill I saw the four wooden arrows she had also conjoured up along with the flashlight, and was proferring to me now. Well to end this gory tale I sunk three of my self made woods into the critter also, and as he decided to head towards me, rattling the four arrows on the shed wall and hissing the way Possums do, I was hurriedly knocking my fourth. I didn't have to loose it though, as suddenly he pitched forward and expired, mouth still open, and still on the shelf that he had built his comfy home upon. Sorry ol' fellah, it's my shed!
Bow well blooded, hunt over.
Topic: Blooded My Dano "Sneaky Snake" Osage Bow (Read 642 times)
