Occamstazer
Almost Self-Reliant
Well.
I recently rambled on BYC about this, but I figured the firearms aspect belonged here.
There are two Turkey vultures that are acting strangely and not at all how they should be acting. I strongly suspect this is the reason a hen just up and dissapears from time to time.
(although cross your fingers, no losses for over a month!)
Anyway, I heard Godzilla shouting a threat earlier, so I ran outside and these two stankers were RIGHT THERE, about 20 feet up in a dead tree, watching my chooks. Not cool, and not normal bird behavior.
I ran in and grabbed the shotgun, aimed carefully at Thing One, and fired. Despite the humiliatingly close range, I didn't so much as nick a feather. I did, however, sustain a few cuts and bruises because our shotgun is secretly a Mule and my arms are flabtastic.
I can almost feel my dad looking down on me and going "tsk tsk"
Ugh. He was a *gun man* and growing up, I was a *gun kid*. I think the proudest I ever saw him was when I was 10 or so and became a better shot with a handgun than he was
Unfortunately, just a moment ago is the first time I've shot a gun in quite a few years. I'm sure my stance was wrong, I *know* my grip was wrong because my thumb knuckle is bleeding, and I MISSED THE STINKIN' VULTURE.
So. My remedial education begins tomorrow. Fortunately J is an Iraq vet and could probably disassemble and reassemble all our guns. At once. In the dark. While juggling. I knew I kept him around for something other than just being pretty!
I recently rambled on BYC about this, but I figured the firearms aspect belonged here.
There are two Turkey vultures that are acting strangely and not at all how they should be acting. I strongly suspect this is the reason a hen just up and dissapears from time to time.
(although cross your fingers, no losses for over a month!)
Anyway, I heard Godzilla shouting a threat earlier, so I ran outside and these two stankers were RIGHT THERE, about 20 feet up in a dead tree, watching my chooks. Not cool, and not normal bird behavior.
I ran in and grabbed the shotgun, aimed carefully at Thing One, and fired. Despite the humiliatingly close range, I didn't so much as nick a feather. I did, however, sustain a few cuts and bruises because our shotgun is secretly a Mule and my arms are flabtastic.
I can almost feel my dad looking down on me and going "tsk tsk"
Ugh. He was a *gun man* and growing up, I was a *gun kid*. I think the proudest I ever saw him was when I was 10 or so and became a better shot with a handgun than he was

Unfortunately, just a moment ago is the first time I've shot a gun in quite a few years. I'm sure my stance was wrong, I *know* my grip was wrong because my thumb knuckle is bleeding, and I MISSED THE STINKIN' VULTURE.
So. My remedial education begins tomorrow. Fortunately J is an Iraq vet and could probably disassemble and reassemble all our guns. At once. In the dark. While juggling. I knew I kept him around for something other than just being pretty!
