My 15 yr old grandson and I got to got to go last weekend. He went to his stand and I headed to another one. It was late afternoon. I hadn't even gotten to sit down when I heard him shoot the 30-30. He sent a text saying he had shot a big hog but it had run away. I told him to sit still until I got there. By the time I got there we had about 30 minutes of daylight left and started casting around for sign. I found some blood so knew the general direction to look in some really thick junk. I could actually smell the damn thing. It got dark pretty quickly and I started getting nervous. Looking for a wounded, pissed off, hog in the dark with a scoped 243 can be a character builder. We looked for about 45 more minutes and I called it off. We went back the next morning and found a blood trail and finally found the hog piled up under a cedar tree. It was pointed our way but I have no idea what that might mean. I went to the house and got the FEL and about 75 yards of heavy rope. We drug it out and by the smell, knew that only Catmandoo would try to eat it. So we weighed it (205 pounds) and cut the head off for a skull mount. The buzzards and coyotes can have the rest. By the time we got all that done, it was time to head home.

I'm reminded of something I once heard about the difference between football and hunting wounded, dangerous, game at night. Football only requires one ball and I found myself to be what the Spaniards call a castrado.

It's not about the fish. It's about the pond. Take care of the pond and the fish will be fine. PB subscriber since before it was in color.

Without a sense of urgency, Nothing ever gets done.

Boy, if I say "sic em", you'd better look for something to bite. Sam Shelley Rancher and Farmer Muleshoe Texas 1892-1985 RIP