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Heh heh heh, Bobcats...

As I mentioned, I used to spot game for my buddies, and one of em, he had this contraption kinda like a hand-truck I think they call a game cart, for us lazy old bastards who are too finicky to throw it over our shoulder or drag it on the ground, you see ?

So we bagged ourselves a sizeable deer, nice clean shot and no having to chase it all over creation, but I was by then tired, hot, and hungry - MickT seemed to have the idea that you shouldn't hunt on a full stomach as it somehow demeans the process (we're sorta waste-nothing naturalists about it) but I always thought he was just shovelling excuses case he knows I tend to be more keen on spotting something if I know that's the only food I am likely to GET.
(cause he won't pack any, neither, jerk!)

Anyhows, so we're be-boppin back to civilization, all triumphant and whatnot...

And this stupid friggin bobcat/wildcat/whatever pops out of the bushes on the trail in front of us!

His precious rifle is back in it's case on the cart, and all *I* have is a puny little popgun currently loaded with snake shot which'd do naught more than piss him off - I guess he was hungry too, cause they normally shy away from humans, but that was MY impending dinner, curse it!

I dunno what possessed me to do it, maybe dealing with cats for so long or something, but he didn't look so much hostile or aggressive as curious and full of mischief - so I took three long steps and just as he swung his ears back to start cussin at me, punched him dead square in the top of the head, WHACK!

"That's MY friggin deer, get your own you lazy moocher!"

Annnd off he went, in a hurry, just like that.
I look back and Mick is standing there with his jaw hangin open, halfway through fumbling his rifle back out of the case, although what good it'd have done at that range is debateable.

"What ? do I LOOK like I wanna share ?"

He just snaps the case shut, muttering and starts pushing the cart again.

Most folk are afraid of wildlife, but the truth is they're usually more afraid of you than vice versa, and while I do have a healthy respect for anything with sharp teeth, nasty claws and the like, having an empathic understanding and knowledge of their body language is a better defense than a 12pounder fulla cannister.

And on THAT note, you'll get a kick outta this...
http://thelawdogfiles.blogspot.com/2009/03/class-ii-beverage-alert.htm
l

Tee hee hee.

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