Run Rampant.
Mid-Ohio has a coyote infestation. When I was growing up there were almost none left around, they had been heavily hunted by local concerned farmers. I saw only one as a kid. I stumbled over it and we both shit ourselves.
But this time around, we've got coyote crawling out the ass. There is a pack that lives in the woods behind my uncle's place, where the calves will be born in couple months. There is a pack that lives in the woods behind my house. Jesse says he went out to light the boiler the other night and ran into a pack of coyote 20+ strong. That is far too many in one place. Locals have been finding deer carcasses stripped to the bone overnight. When the moon is full their howling creeps Darwin out. And rightly so.
Hungry coyote in packs that large can easily take down a newborn calf. Which is why we allowed a coyote hunting club come track over our fields last weekend. It was neat to watch. About twenty-five armed men in a giant contracting circle of blaze orange, making silly coyote noises and firing their guns. I haven't heard yet how many they got. But it wasn't enough.
Rusty was mad that I didn't let him know it was happening. And he just sold his AR last week. So he was going up to Medina on Sunday to a gun show. Disposable income and all that. He invited me along. And as I need to buy a gun, what for coyote and groundhog, I went with. We meet 5 other locals at a restaurant at 8am. Had some coffee. Made fun of people who don't like Bush. And set out. On the trip up we traded gun stories. We pulled into the parking lot of a county fairgrounds, packed to the brim with Murrican-made Trucks. It was quite large, maybe two acres of folding tables covered with ancient revolvers, 50-cal machine guns, ammo, shotguns, clothes, uzis, rifles, holsters, knives, clips, handguns, and a single booth dedicated to the local libertarian party. There were probably 10 women in the entire place, the rest of the space was filled with testosterone-fueled, hard-on hiding gun nuts. I went to start my gun education, to have the difference between brands and styles explained to me. But Rusty was too excited to fill me in. And I was too busy staring at them the same way they usually stare at me.
It was interesting. Takes all kinds.
Rusty bought a 9. We went home and blew through $30+ of ammo.
Just what the world needs, another gun-toting farmer.
But this time around, we've got coyote crawling out the ass. There is a pack that lives in the woods behind my uncle's place, where the calves will be born in couple months. There is a pack that lives in the woods behind my house. Jesse says he went out to light the boiler the other night and ran into a pack of coyote 20+ strong. That is far too many in one place. Locals have been finding deer carcasses stripped to the bone overnight. When the moon is full their howling creeps Darwin out. And rightly so.
Hungry coyote in packs that large can easily take down a newborn calf. Which is why we allowed a coyote hunting club come track over our fields last weekend. It was neat to watch. About twenty-five armed men in a giant contracting circle of blaze orange, making silly coyote noises and firing their guns. I haven't heard yet how many they got. But it wasn't enough.
Rusty was mad that I didn't let him know it was happening. And he just sold his AR last week. So he was going up to Medina on Sunday to a gun show. Disposable income and all that. He invited me along. And as I need to buy a gun, what for coyote and groundhog, I went with. We meet 5 other locals at a restaurant at 8am. Had some coffee. Made fun of people who don't like Bush. And set out. On the trip up we traded gun stories. We pulled into the parking lot of a county fairgrounds, packed to the brim with Murrican-made Trucks. It was quite large, maybe two acres of folding tables covered with ancient revolvers, 50-cal machine guns, ammo, shotguns, clothes, uzis, rifles, holsters, knives, clips, handguns, and a single booth dedicated to the local libertarian party. There were probably 10 women in the entire place, the rest of the space was filled with testosterone-fueled, hard-on hiding gun nuts. I went to start my gun education, to have the difference between brands and styles explained to me. But Rusty was too excited to fill me in. And I was too busy staring at them the same way they usually stare at me.
It was interesting. Takes all kinds.
Rusty bought a 9. We went home and blew through $30+ of ammo.
Just what the world needs, another gun-toting farmer.
posted by Lord of the Barnyard at 12:47 PM
4 Comments:
OHHHH... I was supposed to teach you things? I thought I was just wandering around with a stiffy.
What kind of gun did you get?
i didn't. yet.
i didn't know enough to buy.
people have ben muttering things about a 22 250. but i don't relly know what that means besides that it fires .22s.
.22 caliber projectiles yes...
don't worry, I'll learn ya real good.
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