Good morning. Ive been seeing a coyote in the mornings close to the cows. So I woke up gathered old Bess and went to see if he was there today. Its a beautiful morning, 64° with a light breeze in my face, as I set out on my manly quest. Id already picked out a spot in a thicket yesterday and with T-Bone, the Catahoula cur dog, settled in to wait. I hadnt seen any sign of my furry foe and was just enjoying the my quiet time alone in the woods. T-Bone made a soft growl and slipped into the brush. I didnt think much of it. Hes hell on wheels when it comes to a groundhog and we have a lot of em. I was pondering life, how good it was to live in the country, and how lucky I am to do what I love every day for a living. About that time was when I first saw the skunk. He was a small little feller, nose to the ground, just enjoying his morning too, doing what skunks do. He was upwind and rather odorous, but Im willing to live and let live. He cant help the fact he was born a skunk any more than I can help the fact I was born stupid. I saw the coyote just about the time T-Bone saw the skunk. Now T-Bone hates a skunk about as bad as I hate a coyote and he picked, as usual, the exact wrong time to demonstrate his aforementioned hatred. Bounding down the hill in true canine heroics, giving me a glance over his shoulder that said I got this Slim, my loyal companion jumps on the skunk. U know what happened next and it aint good. So with bruised pride and now stinking clothes, I started back a cross the hills toward home,stopping from time to time to cuss at my overzealous compatriot. The morale of the story is sometimes its an adventure. Sometimes a misadventure. But I will still go back the next time. Go shooting today. And take a kid with you if you can. They wont ever forget it.
Posted on: Sun, 07 Sep 2014 14:25:52 +0000
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