Viticulture Through Superior Firepower
The Foreign Minister and Maximum Leader will, I believe, be impressed by their liberal gun-control supporting friend’s latest firearm achievement.
I was doing my daily barn cleaning yesterday evening, enjoying the sunset, and trundling the wheelbarrow over to the garden to dump another load of manure on the compost pile, when I spied three deer in the vineyard. The little bastards were working their way down the row, chomping away merrily. I dropped the wheelbarrow, went inside the house, unpacked my tool, and returned to mete out justice. The slamming of the screen door alerted them to their imminent demise. They promptly wormed through the deer fence and began making for the woods.
Every other deer I have shot has been a still target, and I used an arm rest for all but one of those shots. But I was not going to let all of the deer get away. They would probably return to the smorgasbord the next night and might bring more friends (there was a herd of eleven behind the house on Saturday). So I had to break their pattern.
I realized that even if I missed my shot, the round would expend itself in the gully and had no chance of flying off to an unknown location. I quickly snapped the rifle up, and shoulder-fired at the largest retreating doe. She was at a three quarter profile and about 150 yards away, moving at a trot.
When the round went off, she jumped and ran, entering the pasture and then vaulting into the paddock containing the wooded creek. I knew I had hit her because I could hear her laboring through the underbrush. Every other deer I have killed has simply flopped over.
Crap, I thought. I have just wounded her. Now I have to chase her to kingdom come so she won’t suffer.
I went back into the house to get another round (I never carry more than one round at a time) and a flashlight. I then trudged down to the woods to find her and put her out of her misery.
I didn’t need to look long and didn’t need the rifle. She was already dead. It is amazing that she was able to run fifty yards and jump two sets of fences. The round had caught her just where I was aiming and had blown through both lungs. The entry was about two inches lower than I would have liked, so it may have just knicked the heart – I couldn’t really tell as I cleaned the carcass in semi-darkness. But even if I didn’t hit the heart at all, how the heck did she get so far with no lungs?
I have no problem killing the deer. It has to be done if I am going to make any money from the vineyard. But I don’t want them to suffer either. So this kill was bittersweet. I am sad that she had a minute or two of pain. But I am also rather proud of the accuracy of the rifle.
It’s probably the scope.
I was doing my daily barn cleaning yesterday evening, enjoying the sunset, and trundling the wheelbarrow over to the garden to dump another load of manure on the compost pile, when I spied three deer in the vineyard. The little bastards were working their way down the row, chomping away merrily. I dropped the wheelbarrow, went inside the house, unpacked my tool, and returned to mete out justice. The slamming of the screen door alerted them to their imminent demise. They promptly wormed through the deer fence and began making for the woods.
Every other deer I have shot has been a still target, and I used an arm rest for all but one of those shots. But I was not going to let all of the deer get away. They would probably return to the smorgasbord the next night and might bring more friends (there was a herd of eleven behind the house on Saturday). So I had to break their pattern.
I realized that even if I missed my shot, the round would expend itself in the gully and had no chance of flying off to an unknown location. I quickly snapped the rifle up, and shoulder-fired at the largest retreating doe. She was at a three quarter profile and about 150 yards away, moving at a trot.
When the round went off, she jumped and ran, entering the pasture and then vaulting into the paddock containing the wooded creek. I knew I had hit her because I could hear her laboring through the underbrush. Every other deer I have killed has simply flopped over.
Crap, I thought. I have just wounded her. Now I have to chase her to kingdom come so she won’t suffer.
I went back into the house to get another round (I never carry more than one round at a time) and a flashlight. I then trudged down to the woods to find her and put her out of her misery.
I didn’t need to look long and didn’t need the rifle. She was already dead. It is amazing that she was able to run fifty yards and jump two sets of fences. The round had caught her just where I was aiming and had blown through both lungs. The entry was about two inches lower than I would have liked, so it may have just knicked the heart – I couldn’t really tell as I cleaned the carcass in semi-darkness. But even if I didn’t hit the heart at all, how the heck did she get so far with no lungs?
I have no problem killing the deer. It has to be done if I am going to make any money from the vineyard. But I don’t want them to suffer either. So this kill was bittersweet. I am sad that she had a minute or two of pain. But I am also rather proud of the accuracy of the rifle.
It’s probably the scope.
posted by Anonymous at 3/12/2004 04:03:00 PM
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