Conference vmsnet::hunting$note:hunting

    Ron,
    
    The big question is what kind of camo was he wearing, and where
    can I get some� Also, when the hawk realized where it landed did
    it change the color of your brother-in-laws camo? ;-}
    
    Tom,

    Tom,
    
      Knowing my brother-in-law, he was wearing his green "woodland"
    camo, with hat, gloves, and face paint. Also, knowing this spot
    where he usually hunts, he was leaning against or sitting on a
    stone wall that runs thru some apple trees. Probably a usual
    roosting place for the hawk.
    
      As for the hawk changing the color of his camo, I would more
    suspect that when Jay realized what had happened, he changed them
    himself. A new meaning to the term scents......
    
    -Ron-

I'm not too sure how strange this is, but I've had a squirrel get in a 
tree stand with me.  It was in one of the trees that the stand was in 
and came down the tree and hopped on the plywood.  It's a piece of plywood 
about 4'X4', so it's not like he landed in my lap or anything.  

Funny, though, how that squirrel seemed to be "jet propelled" when I 
moved......8^)

Scott

    Ron,
    
    It must be the woodland camo....my brother and I were bow hunting
    in Elmor VT (north of Montpellier) and you guessed it...wearing
    woodland camo, head to toe. About dusk I hear my brother laughing
    his a__ off. He was standing/sitting on a stone fence and a weasel
    or something similar decided to climb up his leg....look him in
    the eye and start giving him hell for being on its turf...needless
    to say, we were done hunting for the day because there couldn't
    possibly be any deer in the county with 2 guys laughing and rolling
    on the ground. Ah the joys of hunting with brothers/brothers-in-law.
    
    NOTE: Jon (my_brother_who_works_in_ZKO) SORRY but I have to tell
          some of our hunting stories....You deserve it!
    
    Another time we were duck hunting in Greenville NH, I was standing
    up stream from him and he was on a little peninsula that stuck out
    in the stream. I was looking down stream in his direction when I
    hear this WHOOOSH go by me about 10 feet of the water, in his direction
    ....it was a Woodie....I wasn't quick enough to get the shot....but
    maybe good old brother will get it.....the duck set down in the
    water right in front of where he was (suppose to be) standing....I
    figure any second I'll hear him try to put it in the air and take
    a shot....one minute later...no shot.....well I figure if he doesn't
    take the shot I'm going to walk down there and do it for him....I
    walk down....the duck sees me and books out of there....15 feet
    from the where the duck was I see my brother....pants around the
    ankles...holding onto a tree....with a big grin...shotgun 6 feet away..
    ...he had a nature call.  Yep, you guessed it, another quick hunting
    trip, I had to go find some aspirin because I had a headache from
    laughing so much.
    
    I have this brother-in-law who use to live with my wife and I. He
    was about 20 at the time and would stay out late on Fridays and
    sleep in on Saturday mornings.....until....one day I got home from
    a successful duck hunting trip and sure enough the guy was still
    in the sack.....Ummmmmm....I'll fix him....I put the duck on his
    pillow, with the tip of the bill on the tip of his nose....about
    a half hour later while my wife and I were having a cup of coffee
    we hear this un goddly scream.....Yep, he woke up....a long shoreman
    would have been proud of what my brother-in-law called me...I guess
    that explains why to this day I can't get him to go duck hunting
    with me.....but I fixed him good..........
    
    Sorry for rambling on. I guess too many years hunting with never
    a dull moment. I hope my brother doesn't read this we're going out
    next Tuesday for our first duck hunting trip of the year. Maybe
    he will have a story to put in here next Wednesday.
    
    Tom,

      Great stories Tom!!! The one about the nature call reminded me
    of what happened to me about 5 years ago. Opening day of rifle 
    season, about 7:30am, nature called upon me to lean on a tree.
    No sooner had I gotten settled in, when I spot some movement com-
    ing from my left. A nice 7-point buck!!!! You never saw such 
    scrambling!!!  What a sight this must have been. I lunged for
    my gun (the deer was moving rather rapidy at this time), aimed,
    and dropped him. He got back up (actually he was struggling to
    get up, or was he laughing??) and I put another one in him. And 
    yes, my pants were down around my knees the whole time. I finished 
    my business, and scounged around in the snow for my compass, knife, 
    and various other things that had been sent flying by this excercise. 
    I had to put another one in him to finish him off, but he was a
    beauty. Dressed out at 150lbs. 
    
      To this day, the guys I was hunting with won't let me forget it.
    Each deer I have gotten since then, I was asked about what I was doing
    at the time. They'll never forget.
    
    -Ron-

    Ron,
    I think that is one of Murphy's Laws of hunting:
    "When ever you have a nature call...Nature will come calling"
    
    Remember one of the cardinal rules of hunting:
    "Don't bring white toilet paper with you when you deer hunt....because
     the person who shoots 8 point Gernses (sp) may be behind you"
    
    My brother and I have found that when ever there is a lull in the
    duck hunting, a good way to get them to fly is to tap of the mornings
    coffee.....works every time. The problem is trying to shoot both
    shotguns at the same time, since your holding both while the other
    guy is getting relief.....OUCh...THATS KICK.
    
    I had an experience once while I was fishing. I was in a stream,
    in chest waders, with water up to my waist when I heard a loud
    SLAP behind me. Turned around and there was Mr. Beaver, about 
    6 feet away, with a very pissed off look in his eye. Its amazing
    what you can do with an ultra light spinning rod when you have to.
    On guard, touche. I'm glad graphite is pretty strong stuff and
    Mr. Beaver swam away instead of diving and coming ????UP????
    somewhere else. And yes, brother Jon was with me....rolling on the
    ground laughing at all the action and wondering how I could move
    that fast in waders and 3+ feet of water.
    
    Tom,

    One of my funniest moments was "helping" my bowhunting partner dress
    out and drag his deer.  Now my bowhunting partner has shoulders
    about 4 feet wide, and a strong back, with a weak ..... !  Well
    he decides that the easiest way to get his deer (130# doe) out of
    the woods would be to carry it on his shoulders with the legs drapped
    across his chest.  Now heres what happened:  He tries to do a
    "clean-and-jerk" to throw the deer over his head and he didn't quite
    make it and his head ended up inside of the deer cavity.  He's stuck.
    He doesn't have the strength to lift the deer off his head and he
    starts staggering around cause he can't see where he's going.  Picture
    a big doe (obviously dead) with two human legs coming out from
    underneath it walking around in the woods.  Well my partner is
    screaming at me to help him.... and I couldn't get up off the ground
    cause I split-a-gut laughing too hard.  Finally in a last ditch
    effort to free himself my partner flips over backwards and crawls
    out from under the deer.  What really made this funny was he didn't
    see any humor in it.  I carried the bows and he dragged his deer
    in silence.
    
    ;^)
    
    Dave

        
    Tom,
    
    I have found that another good way to get the ducks to come in is
    to go out and reset your decoys "because they didn't look quite
    right".  Works every time.
    
                                   ----
    
    I was fishing opening day of trout season one year.  The rivers were
    real high so I went to a beaver pond on a mountain.  The pond was
    frozen except for one hole about 4 feet across.  I figured the best
    way to get to it was to throw a worm/bobber combo out, which I did.
    A few minutes later a beaver pops up and proceeds to get all tangled
    up.  He put up quite a fight before calming down.  I let some slack
    out and was about to cut my line and hope for the best, but the beaver
    had other ideas.  He actually rolled on his back, like an otter, and
    untangled himself and swam away.  I was left with quite a mess but was
    glad that no harm came to the little varmit.
     
                                    -----
    
    Another time, my brother-in-law and I were partridge hunting.  We
    stopped so that he could "relieve" himself.  Next thing I know he
    stops in mid-stream, picks up his gun, shoots, puts his gun down
    and finishes his business.  I couldn't figure out what he was up 
    to until he pulls up his trowsers, walks about 30 yards into the
    woods and picks up the dead bird.  Talk about cool under fire.
    
    				    -----
    
    I was trout fishing once, when a doe came running full tilt down the
    mountain.  It locked up within 20 feet of me when it realized I was
    there, and turned and ran back up the mountain.  Not ten minutes later
    an Osprey swooped down, almost took my pole out of my hands, and 
    slashed at the trout I had been trying to catch.  It missed but I never
    saw the fish again that day.  It's days like that that make it all
    worthwhile.
    
    Dave

    RE: .8
    Dave - It is days like that, that make it all worthwhile.......
    
    I'll have to try the old ajust the decoy trick...
    
    Now that you mentioned holes in the ice....here goes my tail about
    that subject. I was told that Bolton Flats in Bolton MA was pretty
    good for duck, so I thought I would try my luck. It had snowed the
    night before just enough to fill in the low spots and leave the
    grass sticking up. Well I started walking down this snow covered
    path towards the river and.....WHOOOOSH......the path turned out
    to be a frozen over snow covered brook. I just happened to have
    my shotgun in front of me in such a way so that when I went through
    the ice it held me up with the barrel on one side and the stock
    on the other with me kind of hanging on to the reciever. Now the
    trick was trying to get out and explainning to my wife why I was
    home early and wet from the waist down. Maybe the Olymic commitee
    will open a new event.....Shotgun Highbar. Remington can be a sponcer.
    
    The same sort of thing happened to my brother once. We were walking
    through the woods to get to one of our duck spots. We were single
    file with me leading, shooting the breeze as we walked. All of a
    sudden he stopped talking.....I looked back and there was no brother.
    Ummmmmm, I back tracked 10 yards and there he was waist deep in
    a mud hole that I had just walked over myself, holding himself up
    by his shotgun, and laughing to beat the band.....Later that same
    morning I managed to bag a mallard and on its way down it hit my
    brother in the leg.
    
    Tom,

    The first year I went deer/elk hunting, a friend and myself set up
    early in the morning about 500 yards apart.  After daylight broke,
    I glassed the side of the hill where he was sitting due to boredom.
    I'll never forget what I saw and he'll never live it down.  He was
    sitting there when all at once he jumped up and started hitting himself
    in the lower leg with his fist.  Then, he put a choke hold on his
    knee with his hands.  I thought "What in the hell is he doing?"
    He let go of his knee and I've never seen anybody come out of a
    pair of coveralls so fast.  It was about 10 degrees at  the time
    so I knew he wasn't looking to get a suntan.  He took the coveralls
    and shook them until this little field mouse came flying out.  It
    had run up his pant leg.  I thought I was gonna die from laughing
    so hard.  I'll never forget him standing out there in knee deep
    snow in his union suit battling that mouse!
    
    Last weekend, I was out duck hunting with two of my friends.  For
    one of them, it was his first time out.  We set up the decoys so
    that the ducks would come in down the middle.  We put Jim inbetween
    us so that he would get most of the shots this being his first time
    and all.  These two ducks landed smack in the middle of our spread
    while we were watching a flock behind us.  I turned around and 
    spotted them so I told him to jump up and get them in the air then
    take 'em.  Well, he jumps up and they just sit on the water looking
    at him.  He picks up and rock and throws it at them but they still
    don't move!  I told Jim that they must have known how he shoots.
    He didn't think that was too funny.  
    
    Looking forward to Oct. 21 out here in Colorado....opening day
    for the 2cd deer/elk season and I drew doe and cow tags!
    
    Clay

    
      The story about the mouse up the pant leg kind hits home. I had
    that happen to me in maine one year while picking blueberries (I was
    about 13yrs old). Let me tell you, it's a weird feeling. My folks,
    grandparents, and siblings couldn't figure out what was wrong until I
    dropped my pants and out hops this little field mouse. He made it up to
    about the knee. Those damn flare-leg jeans we used to wear back then!!!
    Being at a real independent feeling age (13) and having to drop your
    pants in front of a bunch of people (even if they were all relatives)
    is pretty bad. I have never lived that one down.
    
    -Ron-

      My Dad use to tell us a similar story from his youth.  He grew
    up a big chicken farm.  They use to have problems with rats getting
    into the grain room where all the feed for the birds was kept. 
    So he and his brothers would stay up late at night and use lengths
    of rubber hose to kill the rats.  Well ond night he managed to corner
    a rat in the grain room.  The rat trying to escape ran up his pant
    leg!  He said that he got his drawers off in record time, without
    getting bit. Gives me the creeps just thinking about it.
    
    Jeff

        One opening morning for deer about 8 years agao comes to mind
    for this topic. Earlier in the year a friend of mine had scouted
    this area and judging from the tracks it looked like a great spot.
    Anyhow we got out there before daylight and on the way in to my
    stand i kept jumping grouse after grouse after grouse in the dark.
    I finally get to my stand and after about 2 hours I didn't see any
    deer. I got disgusted and loaded my dads double barrel with birdshot.
    I was determined to get something. I meet up with my friend and
    we start talking loud and throwing sticks into brush piles (old
    wood cut) trying to get some birds to fly. We were doing this for
    about 20 minutes. I come around a bend in this old wood road and
    right in front of about 40 feet away are 3 does. One standing and
    2 bedded down. Here I am with birdshot. The sun is just over my
    head and in their eyes. I start to take out the birdshot and my
    buddy is not believing me that there are 3 deer standing just a
    short distance away. I just drop the birdshot on the ground adn
    put in buckshot and a slug in the gun. The deer are still there.
    Finally one lets out a snort and my buddy finally comes to the
    realization that there really are deer there. I close up the double
    barrel with my glove stuck right in the breach. I reopen the gun
    and take the glove out. The deer have not moved but they know something
    is up. By this time my adrenalin is flowing at a record rate. When
    I finally get my gun to my shoulder I was shaking real bad and missed
    a broadside shot. The deer don't take off but rather keep running
    around in a circle, so I let the buckshot fly and still missed.
    All I saw next was three flags and my buddy still trying to get
    his gun unjammed from trying to reload his too fast. I never saw
    another deer that season. 
    							Bret

    
    
    	Have you ever wondered if anyone was watching you when you're
    in the woods and mother nature calls?   One spring day I was out
    Turkey hunting in a place we nicknamed the "States" in south central
    VT.  I had sat against a huge maple facing uphill towards a turkey
    that had been gobbling and was trying to work it with my box call.
        I was young and inexperienced, and after the turkey finally
    figured out that he wasn't talking to a real bird, he shut up.
    So did I, that is until this hunter comes walking past me from the
    rear.  He strolls over to a tree and drops his trousers.  In the
    meantime, I leaned over to peek around the tree and gave a few
    yelps on my call and waved...  Well you know the old trousers came
    up so fast that I don't believe he ever finished.  He was up and
    gone and he sure didn't wave back.  I just laughed and figured
    he'd be itching real soon.....
    

    
    
    I have a friend who had a similar experience with a field mouse.
    Fortunately, he drowned the little bugger before it got past his
    knee.
    
    Jerry

    Do strange but true shots count?  If so, I have one.
    
    This actually happened to my Dad.  About 25 years ago he was hunting
    desert mule deer in far west Texas.  It was late in the day and
    he hadn't seen horns.  Being tired, he sat down at the foot of a
    mountain to rest.  Soon thereafter, he heard, and then spotted,
    about half a dozen deer running up the mountain.  They were
    pretty far off and he was unable to put horns on any of them.
    However, as they topped out, they changed their angle just enough
    so that they were running directly away from him.  As the topped
    out, he watched them through his scope.
    
    As the last deer went over the mountain, he saw that it was a spike
    buck.  As he explained it, his '06 just went off.  He saw the buck's
    head bob a bit and thought that he might have connected.
    
    After climbing up and looking for the buck, he concluded that he
    must have been mistaken.  He then started walking toward the road.
    In doing this, he passed a small gulley.  Suddenly, the buck was
    dragging itself out, it's hind legs completely spread apart and
    useless.  It was moving strictly with its front legs, it's pelvic
    bone was shattered.  My dad quickly dispatched it with a shot to
    the neck.
    
    What, you ask, is so strange about this.  We only found one bullet
    hole in the deer.  It was where it had been shot in the neck.  As
    I stated earlier, the pelvic bone had been shattered, and we also
    found a bullet lodged in it's left shoulder.  It seems that my
    dad's bullet used a hole that was already there.
    
    Jerry
    
    P.S.  Sorry about .15.  I just couldn't resist.

Speaking of lacking bullet holes, there's a guy here at the CSC who 
knows somebody (I know, another one of these friend of a friend of a 
friend stories) who supposedly shot a bobcat with a .22.  The guy shot 
it from the front, hit a tooth, where the bullet ricocheted up into 
the brain cavity but didn't exit the head.  So the only evidence that 
the cat had been hit was in it's broken front tooth.

A more verifiable story was the bobcat my brother killed (I was there 
for that one).  He shot the cat as it was moving from left to right, 
where the bullet went in one eye and out the other.  It didn't kill 
the cat, but managed to piss it off real bad.  Since it couldn't see, 
it couldn't really run off.  When my dad heard him shoot, he went to 
my brother thinking he shot at a deer, only to find the cat.  A big 
stick to the head a couple of times kept the hide intact...

Scott

    re -1  I have to call bull$hit on that second one!
    
    re -2  Can you say "hot lead enema...I knew you could"!
    
    ctw

>>    re -1  I have to call bull$hit on that second one!
    
I can't swear enough by anything that is true!  I didn't actually 
see the bobcat until it was already dead, but the only marks on it 
were "slightly elongated" holes where the eyeballs used to be.  
There was no bullet hole anywhere!!!

Since he had it mounted later, there's no way to prove it to you.  It's 
still a source of BS to my brother everytime we start talking about 
who the best shot in the family is ("Which one of us shot the eyes out 
of a bobcat, big brother?)  We both know it was a lucky shot, though, 
and that he didn't intentionally shoot it there on purpose.  

Scott

    
    	While taking a stand durning black powder season a couple of years
    ago in NH I had an all white weasel (I think it was a weasel) come 
    stalking the buck lure on my boots. I called it quits when he put his
    paws on my boots. My open pant leg was just to close. I was really 
    surprised how fast one of those little varmits can run.
        Another year up near the same place in NH where I saw the weasel
    as I was coming out of the woods on what I thought was another
    un-eventful day I could hear my brother laughing . As I rounded the
    last turn to the vehicle there was my brother with his arm streched out
    feeding a fairly large bird his tuna sandwich. It was actually sitting
    on his arm eating out of his hand. Never saw anything like it in my
    life.
    
    sjn

    	RE .20
    
    		Lowly white weasel = elegant expensive ermine -
    

    
    There's these two guys, Hector and Jimmy, who leave on their annual
    hunting trip for deer.  As usual, they spend the first night hitting
    the bottle pretty hard, celebrating their time away from the wives, and
    the beginning of hunting season.  And this time they really get
    hammered.
    
    Early the next morning Hector wakes up, feeling horrible, with a
    gigantic headache.  He can barely move, but he gets up cause he wants
    to get to hunting.  He tries to wake Jimmy up, but Jimmy won't budge.
    Hector finally says, &*#@ him, I'm going hunting, and I'll leave him
    here to sleep it off. 
    
    So Hector leaves - and later on, bags a buck.  Meanwhile, Jimmy wakes
    up and realizes he feels extremely horrible, and needs to take a dump.
    He goes over near a tree, drops his drawer, crouches - using the tree
    to lean on - and promptly passes out again.
    
    Hector comes back to camp to gets Jimmy's help, and see's him against
    the tree, asleep in the dumping position.  Hector decides it's
    practical joke time.  He races back to the buck and guts it - and
    scoops all the guts up that he can, goes back to camp, and throws them
    under Jimmy's rear end - chucklin, he goes back to the buck to finish
    with it.
    
    A few hours later, Hector gets back to camp, and sees Jimmy by the
    fire, wrapped in a blanket, drinking coffee, pale as a ghost and
    shivering.
    
    Hector says "Hey Jimmy whats the matter???"
    
    Jimmy says "Hector, I finally did it - I drank so much that I dumped my
    insides out - but with the grace of God and a sharp stick, I think I
    got them all back in again!"

    
        Some one had to put a note on hunting stories.  I have several
    	all true, some I actually was part of.  Being from a family with
    	three generation of hunters there are many more.  These are the
    	best though.  The are all on the humerous side.
    
    STORY 1
    
    			Mean Mink                           
    
    
    	Ever try crossing a beaver dam with a mink in it?  This guy had
    no fear (Could of been Rabbit).   Anyway, going around was over 1 1/2
    miles through the woods.  
    Not to get into the details of who did what and who was this person.
    I will end this story.  I heard the mint made a nice pair of gloves,
    it had to have a hole patched in it though.
    
    
    Story 2
    
    			Drop Your Draws for a Doe
    
    	My brother shot a deer and it ran out into the swamp and died.
        Needless to say the water was not like your swimming pool.  He
    	had to disrope.  He left his boots on and started in.  When
    	he got about 5 feet from the deer only its ear was sticking out
        of the water.  The bottom started to sink under him.  He got
        the deer and proceeded to field dress and haul it out.  
    
    
    	Anyway, once he got it back to the truck( 1 mile though the woods,
    2 miles up the dirt road) he looked more dead than the deer with his
    tung hanging out.  It was then I told him he could of driven to 1/2
    mile to where he shot the deer.  I need not elaborate on his response.
    
    Story 3
    
    			Make Sure You Know.
    
    	My father was hunting up in Maine when nature called.  He found
    what looked like a good spot and started his business.  He looked
    up and there was another hunter coming towards him.  His thoughts
    were well one guy to another guy.  He must understand you gutta go
    ya gutta go.  He finished up and figured he go say hello to the
    other hunter.  "SHE" was very glad to say hello.  SHE could not keep
    a big grin off her face.
    
    Story 4
    
    
    			Make Sure it is Dead
    
    	Plum Island Mass hunt.  I hunter shot a deer on plum Island.  He
    was always told to make sure you tag your deer first.  He filled out
    the tag and stuck it in the deers ear with a safety pin.  He stepped
    back to get his knife out, the deer jumped up and ran over the
    sand dune.  The hunter heard a shot.  He ran over the dune to find
    another hunter filling out his tag.  He ran down and said what are
    you doing that is my deer.  The hunter who had just shot said, what
    do you mean?  The hunter turned the deer over and there was his tag.
    The other hunter started to laugh.  He said anyone that can tag a
    live deer deservse to keep it.
    
    Story 5.
    
    	          Game Wardens Really Do Have a Sence of Humer
    
    	Two hunters were coming down route 16 in New Hampshire they were
    skunked all except this over size snow shoe rabbit.  One of the hunters
    got a branch (simular to antlers) and tied them to the rabbits head.
    They then tied the rabbit to the vender with a sign on it that stated.
    "New Hampshie Deer".  As the proceeded down the route, here comes the
    game warden the other way.  He turns aroung and pulls the two hunters
    over.  He checks out the animal on the hood and says, where is the
    tag boys?  The hunters say what tag, the warden says, you shoot a New
    Hampshire Deer you have to tag it.  The warden got out his book and
    started writing out tickets.  The two hunters were now in a panic.
    The warden then smiled, shook his head and walked away.
            

    I saw a clip in the paper last week that you might enjoy.  It seems
    two hunters in Iraq (I think that is were it was) came across a large
    snake.  They decided to capture it alive by pinning his head with the
    butt of the gun.  You guessed it... the snake coiled up around the
    stock and shot and killed one of the hunters and narrowly missed the
    other...... No wonder that snake got to be so big.
    
    Mark,
    

    So, did the snake have the guy mounted?  Or did he tag 'em and eat 'em?

    	One of the other notes sort of reminded of this funny, but true,
    hunting story. My friends father always brings Dunkin Donuts coffee on
    mornings we hunt. I know that if I drink this, there's better than a
    90% chance that I'll have to do what bears do in the woods.
    
    	So when the inevitable happens, I dig a small hole with my boot,
    try to go in the hole, and cover it over with leaves. One day, my friend 
    and his father come across one of my piles, which looks sort of like an 
    animal buried its prey or something. It went something like this:
    
    Friend's Father looking down at pile: "Hmmmm. Hey, what do ya make
    of this ?"
    
    Friend: "Hmmm. I don't know", and procedes to unbury whatever it is with
    the butt of his gun.
    
    	Well, by the time he saw the toilet paper it was too late. It was
    quite literally, a shitty experience ;-)
    
    	Ray

    	This happened on the first day we brought a friend's dog duck
    hunting. She was a relatively small Chesapeke Bay retriever named Sara. 
    This is also the same day my friend brought his nearly brand new Browning 
    Citori over and under 12 ga. duck hunting.
    
    	I'm rowing out to our blind, when I catch wind of the unmistakable
    smell of dog doo. It went something like -
    
    Me: "Ohhhhh, Sara !!! You rotten bitch !!!"
    
    Friend: "What did she do ?"
    
    Me: "She shit in my canoe !!!"
    
    Friend: "Bwaahhahhahhhaa !!!"
    
    Me: "So you think that's funny ?"
    
    Friend: "Bwaahhhahhhahhaa !!! Well, yeah, Bwaaahhahhahah !!!"
    
    
    Me: "Well good, cause she shit all over your new gun." 
    
    Friend: "Your kidding !!!. Picks up gun to see soupy dog doo running
    off right were his cheek would meet the gun.
    
    Me: "BWAHHAHHHAHHAHA !!!"
    
    	Let's just say his shooting was a little off that day. Something
    about not keeping his head down I think ;-)
    
    	Ray

    	It takes about 20 minutes to paddle out to where we normally duck
    hunt. When we get there, there is nothing but swamp and swamp grass.
    We get there one morning, and it goes something like -
    
    Friend: "Oooowwwww. Oh no." 
    
    Me: "What's the matter ?"
    
    Friend: "Cramps. Do you still have any toilet paper with you ?"
    
    Me: "No."
    
    Friend: Gets up out of canoe and walks over to a small clump of swamp
    bushes.
    
    	He drops his drawers and goes. Now I'm thinking, Ok, now what's he
    going to do ? He pulls out a clump of swamp grass and...
    
    
    	holding the top and bottom of the clump, runs it back and forth 
    between his legs like a bath towel. It was not a pretty sight 8-0 I had to 
    pass up on a couple of shots cause I was laughing so hard. Funny, he never 
    busted my cookies about going in the woods after that ;-)
    
    	Ray

    Ray,
    
    Here is a true story that a buddy of mine witnessed.
    
    My friend Jason and a guy named Jed Edinger(louisville truck
    components) were goose hunting in a blind in Ballard County Refuge with
    a couple of other guys.  Jed is quite rich but a true redneck, downhome
    kind of guy.  Jason said a guy in the blind had a brand new over and
    under shotgun that he paid a mint for and was bragging over and over
    about it.  He kept saying "A mans shotgun really tells what kind of
    person he is".  At this Jed took his pocket knife out and carved, 
    "EAT ME" in the stock of his browning auto five and showed the guy!
    
    He still has the shotgun to prove it.
    
    He said the other guys in the blind as well as the guide died laughing,
    and the guy never said another word.
    
    Wess

    
    Speaking of #2 in the woods.  My wife tells the story about a friend of
    theirs who had to "go" in the woods.  Didn't have any "tp" with him
    so picked up a hand full of leaves and...  Anyhow there must have been
    some poison ivy or something in the leaves.  The guy ended up having
    to go to the doctor.

    fred();