So we went to the woods this afternoon. Parked the truck in a place she chose and I went one way and she went the other. This was at about 3:45. Plan was to take advantage of the wet woods and still hunt hogs till dark. Over on my side there is nothing to be seen. A little before dark I start making my way back to the truck. When I get about 100 yards from the truck I can see her blaze orange coming towards me. As she gets closer she starts running. Runs right up and punches me in the chest......and then starts yelling something about my cell phone being off.
As we walk back to the truck I get a BIG ear full about how if she had her phone off in the woods and I'd been trying to call her......and on and on and on. It takes a while but I finally get the message that she was worried. Figured I'd had a stroke or something.
So as we round the curve to where I can see the truck there's this hog laying there.....and it's gutted, ready to go in the truck. Now she has not said a word about a hog up to this point......been to busy chewin' my butt about the phone being off.
More that that I had not heard a shot all afternoon? This was not making any sense.
It takes some effort, and I get a bit more butt chewin' for demanding to know who gutted it for her, but I finally get the whole story.
Seems that she went WAY back down this trail and came on a pack of hogs feeding in the swamp. Slipped up on them and popped this one. It goes a few yards and piles up. It's still kickin' so she shoots it again to finish it off. Then she pulls out her phone and calls me. No answer. Calls again. No answer. With each call she says she gets madder.
So as it's getting late, and I'm MIA, she figures she has to deal with it herself. Problem is she has no rope so she has to drag it by it's feet. As she's telling me this she says "I pulled it a little ways and cussed you! And then I pulled it a little further and cussed you some more! It made me feel better."
Finally gets it to the edge of a old road and goes and gets the truck. When she gets back to the hog she wraps a safety harness around it's neck and hauls it the rest of the way with the truck. While she's waiting for me she gets my spare knife out and sets about to gut it. She's helped me do it a bunch of times so figures she can do it alone. Has to call my buddy Don once for instruction but manages to get it done.
I don't know at what point being mad about the phone turned to worry and I still don't know how I didn't hear her rifle go off, twice............ She still looks a little mad in the picture.
As we walk back to the truck I get a BIG ear full about how if she had her phone off in the woods and I'd been trying to call her......and on and on and on. It takes a while but I finally get the message that she was worried. Figured I'd had a stroke or something.
So as we round the curve to where I can see the truck there's this hog laying there.....and it's gutted, ready to go in the truck. Now she has not said a word about a hog up to this point......been to busy chewin' my butt about the phone being off.
More that that I had not heard a shot all afternoon? This was not making any sense.
It takes some effort, and I get a bit more butt chewin' for demanding to know who gutted it for her, but I finally get the whole story.
Seems that she went WAY back down this trail and came on a pack of hogs feeding in the swamp. Slipped up on them and popped this one. It goes a few yards and piles up. It's still kickin' so she shoots it again to finish it off. Then she pulls out her phone and calls me. No answer. Calls again. No answer. With each call she says she gets madder.
So as it's getting late, and I'm MIA, she figures she has to deal with it herself. Problem is she has no rope so she has to drag it by it's feet. As she's telling me this she says "I pulled it a little ways and cussed you! And then I pulled it a little further and cussed you some more! It made me feel better."
Finally gets it to the edge of a old road and goes and gets the truck. When she gets back to the hog she wraps a safety harness around it's neck and hauls it the rest of the way with the truck. While she's waiting for me she gets my spare knife out and sets about to gut it. She's helped me do it a bunch of times so figures she can do it alone. Has to call my buddy Don once for instruction but manages to get it done.
I don't know at what point being mad about the phone turned to worry and I still don't know how I didn't hear her rifle go off, twice............ She still looks a little mad in the picture.
