Cowboy Blob's Saloon and Shootin Gallery

I'm not a real Cowboy, but I play one in the movies.

Sunday, April 17, 2005

How Much Would a Woodchuck Chuck-up...



If a woodchuck could chuck-up wood?

I can still hear my big sister say "So, you're not in town a day yet and already you've had to kill something."

Well...yes. My little brother pointed out the back window and grabbed the .22 rifle Dad kept for the occasion of Evil Mr. Groundhog showing up in the field behind the house. That lil peckerhead and his friends had made a mess of the inside of Mom's barn in the past, so I was not feeling particularly merciful. The only thing I had handy was the M1A SOCOM I hadn't fired yet and one preloaded magazine. By the time we'd mobilized, the fat lil groundhog had slithered out of sight, so we sat and waited. When his head reapppeared, my brother suggested we wait until the critter sat up to pose a bigger target. By then, I had the rifle in a snug hold with the sights cranked down into their lowest position. I mentioned that I might be able to poke through the dirt if I shot low...and took the shot. The brown furry lump disappeared, so we hiked down into the field to investigate.

So...the rifle I've practically declared to be the last one I'll ever need to buy put the first round I'd ever fired through it through the evil rodent's head. I poked it down into it's hole with the muzzle of the rifle and hiked back and grabbed my camera for a pic before the flies caught onto the gig already.

I can feel the spirit of half a dozen euthanized plowhorses thank me for ridding the fields of this menace. I know my grandfather would have approved.

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