Harmony County

2011 & 2009 Winner of "Best Humor Column" awarded by the SC Press Association

“A hunting we will go…”

with 3 comments

I have been a hunter for most of my life. Now before you get all bent out of shape I have always eaten what I have killed. For a while there game was a major contributor to the dining room table. Try feeding a family of four while going to college when the GI Bill contribution was a walloping grand $247 per month. So, of course I have accumulated a few hunting stories over the years.

Back in the day, one of my Army buddies was a duck hunter, big time. He asked me to go along on a hunt and like an idiot, I agreed. It quickly became obvious that duck hunting is one of the cruelest forms of self-abuse. Sitting in freezing cold duck blind, with a cold, shivering, simpering dog, listening to your hunting partner blowing loudly into a duck call, waiting interminably for one lousy duck to fly over is not my idea of communing with nature.

Walking back to the truck I was so stiff with the cold I was doing the ‘Frankenstein Stomp’. The dog and I huddle together for warmth, both of us were whining. But the fun was not over. We went to a local sportsman’s bar. I have to admit it was a classic spot. There were gun racks on the walls, rugs for the dogs to sleep on, no stools at the bar, a brass rail and spittoons. I was enjoying an Irish Coffee and finally beginning to get sensitivity back into my hands and feet when it happened.

There is an old expression about being cold. It goes, “Colder than a well-diggers a**.” My hunting partner asked me how I was feeling and I used that expression to describe myself. I turned back to the bar and I heard an , “Ahem” and felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw another hunter. He was every bit of 6-foot-six. He said, “I’m a well-digger.”

“Well er ah, well ahhhh, can I buy you a drink or 12? I meant no disrespect. If it wasn’t for guys like you we couldn’t make whisky.” Was my feeble response. Geez.

I am not the only hunter in the house. The Kilkenny Brothers are naturals. They are constantly bringing me gifts. However, their choice of cuisine are not my favorites. Bugs don’t have a chance they gobble them right down. Their outdoor excursions occasionally supply a mouse or bird. So far so good. I do draw the line at snakes. The house is a “Reptile Free Zone”.

I do still hunt. However, now I hunt with a camera. The rifles and shotguns are locked away. Future gifts for the grandkids when they get old enough. I now take them out for walks in the woods. They learn about tracking, stealth, animal habitats and wildlife photography. They seem to enjoy it as much as I do.

Not a bad idea. You might want to try it yourselves. The forests are nearby. © 2016, Jim McGowan

 

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Written by harmonycounty

February 4, 2016 at 4:42 p02

Posted in Humor

3 Responses

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  1. Jim, and a can of Spam’, doesn’t sound to bad right now. Take care !

    Eldon Kilberger

    February 4, 2016 at 4:42 p02

  2. […] Source: “A hunting we will go…” […]


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