You just described my life. When the dillos attack, wife puts me on patrol. Fortunately, we have pan cameras everywhere outside to monitor it for me.
I just have to take care of the wet work and disposal.
I just have to take care of the wet work and disposal.
I shot one last year that not only left blood all over the place, but emptied it's bowels while doing the 'dillo death hop. That was the nastiest, greasiest turd I've ever seen.
Midnight patrols can bring up the unexpected.
My daughter would "find" critters and bring them home. One day, she brought home a locker spaniel. He had no collar, starving, dirty, matted. Was wandering around the school. Got him bathed and fed. Very friendly, happy to be receiving attention.
He goes to the backyard and we go to bed. Just as I'm getting to sleep, around 11:00, he starts barking. No a warning bark, not vicious, just a bark, bark,...bark, bark. I rap on window and holler SHUT UP. He is quiet for 30-45 minutes and then bark., bark., bark.. I get up and go to patio door. Stick my head out and he is SITTING under our bedroom window, looking up and bark.. I see nothing, tell him SHUT UP and he lays down. I go to bed. About 1:00, bark, bark, bark. I get up, quick walk out patio door and KICK.
He dodges and I meet brick wall of house. Have a few choice words, he disappeared around corner of house. I hobble back to bed. All is quiet and peaceful, UNTIL 3:00. bark, bark, bark.
I move easy to patio door. He is SITTING, looking up. I see nothing. Flip on patio light. See nothing. He is still looking up.
And I see it. Japanese Maple beside patio, fork in tree just in the shadows, above roof line, a tail flicks. A big, black tomcat sits, facing away from us. I step out, quietly. A shovel is leaning against wall, where I had been working flowerbeds. Taking shovel, I give a Paul Bunyon swing and plant the flat, back edge of shovel against that *&&&&%$$# cat's backside. With a YOWL, it is launched out of tree, over fence and on top of a nylon tent, full of boys camping out. Cat claws shred tent. Boys scatter, screaming. Lights come on. There I stand, tighty whiteys and shovel in hand. Dog laying there, like he just woke up and is clueless. I wave and go back to bed. Rest of night is uneventful. Next day, dog was moved to a new home.
I used to like shooting dillers from my deer stand when it was almost time to head back to the truck. I'd stick em to the ground with a field tip arrow and watch em run in a circle around the arrow. Climb down and give em a 9mm to the head and pull my arrow. I killed several like that but I aint eatin that crap.
It was from a CHUD, Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dweller.
I hear maggots are high in protein.
True, Klaus Schwab recommends them while he eats steak.
They also poop on your food at the restaurant kitchen.
I contend people eat fly poop all the time. The little buggers fly around dropping turds on everyone’s food.
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