I've got another squirrel story...it was a ritual that dad would take my brother(5) and I(8) out opening weekend and let us watch him shoot squirrels. Well, on this one morning, he wasn't having much luck, and finally saw one a little farther off than he normally shoots. He would always shoot them with a .22LR in their heads. well, he hits the tree rat, and it hits the ground flopping like head hit squirrels do. He gets up and stealthily walks over to pick it up. about the time he gets his hand down to it, it latches onto his hand in the webbing between the thumb and pointer finger. Well, my brother and I being so young and not fully understanding what pain my father must be in, we started giggling, then full out laughter with both of us rolling around in the leaves....he got so mad at us, he drove the 15 miles back home, dropped us off, and went back hunting...

LMAO

funny stuff right there

good read..

ttt

Younger guy named mark, had a old family place near albany. We went out on invite fot the first texas spring turkey hunt First day saw a few out ouf range, One kid new to hunting found a very large rattler and had close call on strike,grabbed his pants leg,While walking down a cow trail,Pretty much ruined his day and he stayed in truck the rest of weekend. First nite we got there late. An stayed in old ramshackle 1910+- plank ranch house that was well into collapsing. Started fire in stone fire place an as fire flickered slowly down in dark, We started to doze off, Moon says to sanford "hows ol mike doing" heard he was jumped by escape over at the jack pump " ok "Hes ok bruised up some". BY who? "Oh yall saw the lights way off to the south comin in." "Thats a place for prisioners with mental problems, they get loose an wander around ranches til caught, "Yall watch around tomorrow",, Fire light flickers lower About that time moon laying by ol plank door kicks it open.and the axxhole SCREAMS an fires 3-4 shots thru dark room out the door, After hearing 15 minutes of what the escapees did to few hands an oil pumpers Its on your mind, After every one quits laughing/shaking at the newbies reaction, First thing we heard was pile of rattle snakes sounding off under the plank floor where they were getting ready for spring. Next day we shot a pile of them with 22 an flash lite thru floor boards. After that it was hard to see turkeys as everyone was staring at ground Turned out the lights glowing were abilene. And turkeys vanished, but we saw first antelope that tpw were re stocking there.

man i just sat here and read all 6 pages. its kinda like a movie you dont want to end. this is great stuff.

ttt

“Chink-ching”.
As I waited, my mind drifted to the earliest time I had heard this unnatural sound. It was the first occasion I was permitted to go deer hunting with my father. I was twelve years old. Getting up before sunrise, eating a quick breakfast and walking deep into the woods was something I had dreamed about for a couple of years.
"Although you can't shoot at anything until sun-up, it's important to get into the woods before the deer get moving around," my Dad had explained. My father and I trudged through the foot-deep snow for about a mile. We left the trail, crossed a small creek, and climbed a steep bank near a tree that had fallen years before. My Dad cleared snow from the log and motioned for me to sit down. I watched all of my father's movements from the turn of his head to the shuffling of his feet, moving the snow away from his boots. I followed my father's lead and cleared the snow near my feet.
The woods were quieted by a heavy snowfall and windless morning. The silence was almost frightening, but fear did not come easy in the presence of my father, a man with tremendous internal and physical strength. I felt warm and safe next to him.
I was beginning to daydream when I saw three shadowy figures making their way through the snowy woods. As they got closer I noticed that two were men, one old, one young, and one was a small child. All were poorly dressed in ragged coats and trousers. I looked toward my father and then heard a terrifying "chink-ching". It was a sound I would never forget.
At first, it appeared as though the dark figures would pass without noticing us, but moments later the night wanderers caught our trail carved in the soft snow and ambled our way. "That you, Gene?" the senior Clattimore whispered.
"Yes, Dewey. Who else do you know fool enough to be out this early?" my father whispered back.
"We been chasin’ a couple that we bounced out of their beds about an hour ago” Dewey said in a hushed voice.
My father shook his head and waved. As the Clattimores walked away I could see the silhouette of hooked hands hanging from their arms and their son being dragged through the deep snow. A couple of minutes later I heard the "chink-ching" again as one of them shifted the position of his firearm while sifting through the forest.

True story - the guys had their arms blown off while trying to steal copper wiring. Had metal forearms and hooks where their hands should have been. Scared the crap out of me when I was a kid.

Good stuff guys....

Man, I burned through a few hours at work reading these stories. Sure made the day go by. Thanks for sharing.

When I was in college in the panhandle a friend and I drove to Red River N.M. early fall to go camping and fishing. As we got into the mountains we stopped for gas, beer, and groceries. The talk of the locals wa about the huge bear that had been seen all around and that someone had finally shot him....As we camped the first night at a road side park we were warned by everyone to take all the bear precausions, lock up food in the lock box, don't leave trash out, etc...As we're hanging out around the fire we hear the distant boom of a high powered rifle go off somehwere in the hills. We procede to get drunk, forget to put up any kind of food and decide to go to crash out in our little 2 man pup tent. Sleeping head-to-toe, I wake up upon hearing all this thrashing around our camp. I start kicking my buddy, who was a catcher in college and a pretty big dude, trying to get him to wake up. He starts kicking me back thinking I'm messing with him. Finally armed with a flashlight and waiting for this huge bear paw to come tearing through the tent we un-zip the door ASAP ready to run in different directions and find half a dozen raccoons eating our dip, sunflower seeds, toothpaste and anyting else those little bastards can get their paws on!!!

When we had a lease around Novice a buddy and I were staying up late on the front porch drinking beer, everyone else has gone to bed. We hear the tell-tale scrambling and rummaging around under the porch of our "little buddy" the local armadillo. After way too many beers we decide to catch him. So with a spot light held by my buddy i crawl under the storage trailer that we chased him too, get a hold of his tail and pull like I'm winning the tug-of-war! I litterally thought I pulled his tail off...you know leprasy and all, but got him out from under there. Now, what are we going to do with this pissed off kicking, growling thing??? Of course we quitely (as quiet as two drunks holding a pissed off armadillo can be) open the door to the bunkhouse, shine the spotlight in one of our buddies' eyes once he opens them, shine it on the armadillo...As he is half way through saying "What the ....?" we drop the 'dillo close the door and haul [censored]!! You'd of thought there was a baroom brawl going on in there, in the darkness, from the sounds we heard!! Those guys couldn't find a light, a door, a way out!! After the cussing kicking a yelling, our little buddy finally got out and went back to his spot under the porch, where he got an extra helping of his favorite dog food...

The Brazos river was my back yard as a kid. I went fishing alone one night, and found a great spot. Bottom of a bluff at a bend in the river where the channel got necked down by a gravel bar. Great spot for channel cats. I even stumbled upon a very sturdy plank of wood jutting out from the side of the bluff to sit on. It was about 11:30pm when I got there, so I quickly set out a few throw-lines, baited a few hooks, and went to fishing. I slayed 'em that night. Had a stringer-full of channel cats in my hand by morning. When first light hit I looked down and realized I'd been sitting on the foot end of a coffin all night. I screamed like a little girl and dropped the stringer of fish in the water. It was gone. Turns out I was at the site of a popular camp-site/crossing and there was an actual un-marked cemetery there. The river had cut so far into the bank it was exposing coffins that had been buried 6 feet deep 200 years ago. My parents got the county involved and over the next couple of years the cemetery got moved further from the water and fenced in. Now the only thing about this story nobody believes is the number of fish I caught that night.

Story #2. I have a small piece of land that has a pauper's cemetery right outside the gate. I get there to dove hunt one day and find scraps of meat and cloth all over the place. Upon investigating, the county had failed to seal a "Pauper's Bag" properly, and a possum had actually gotten to the body and pulled pieces of him out through a hole. There were pieces of this poor guy spread out over half and acre. I called the local funeral home I knew handled these burials and they came out, collected all the parts, and re-buried the poor soul. Ever since then the place has been known as "Possum Meadows."

My buddy and I were out pre scouting for duck season a couple of years ago in the Angelina river bottoms (aka swamp). We ended up getting really turned around to the point we were lost. About 15 minutes after dark we stumbled into a big group of pigs. Luckily they were all very small; All I had was a pocket knife and he had a buck knife. About an hour later we finally found a highline and hit a county road. Thought we were going to be gator food.

This one happened to me two years ago, I shared it in the migratory section that morning, but it's worth sharing again.

Decided I'd hunt by myself where the Attoyac flows into Rayburn. The lake was rediculously low, but there were some pretty good spots that were really stacking up the ducks. Thinking there might be a little competition since it's public land and all, and right after the split I got there around 2:45. I'm basically on a little island with water a foot or two deep around it..I'm leaned up in some brush facing the road where I parked (over 1/2 mile away). I had thought I heard people talking when walking it, but I just figured I was imagining things. It was then that I kept seeing little green dots..at first I thought they were lights on houses far away..but then I realized they were moving. At that point I wasn't too concerned because they seemed really far away. About that time I heard someone walking off of my 6...Then it hit me, they weren't far away...they were close..Then I heard the words you'd never want to hear while out hunting alone with just a shotgun "be quiet you idiot, we've got the element of suprise, he has no idea" hissed from some East Texas/coon arse accent.

It was then that I realized those lights were either cheap IR illuminators or cheap night vision goggles I was seeing.

I figured it was time to go then. I had counted 3 lights between me and the truck and these loud guy and the talker were behind me...SO I was numbered 5-1, they have some type of night vision, and I have a gun full of #4 steel and it only holds 3 rounds. I very quickly and quietly got out of there...I'm sure they didn't like the idea of a shotgun being pointed at each and every one of them....I figure they were A. meth cookers B. pot growers C. Out hunting deer illegally

There have been some recent pot fields getting busted in the area, so it wouldn't surprise me!

That's the reason why I always carry the XD or 1911 in the blind bag. Bird shot isn't going to do much to people.

I was in a box blind turkey hunting using a call. I started hearing cratching on the site of the stand. I stuck my head out of the blind and looked down and there was a bobcat trying to climb in. I keep thinking what if he would have jumped thru the window and into the blind. That would not have been good.

My friends uncle was sitting next to a log or stump while turkey hunting and was doing some calling. Next thing he knows a bobcat comes from behind the log and pounces on his head. I believe he need up with over 100 stitches in his head. Paul Harvey aired this story on "The Rest of The Story."

I was reading the Hibbie Jibbies post and thought we could re-vamp this one. its a great read for those that haven't read it yet.