Praire Rat Control
Don't shoot all that much nowadasy, but 240 moons ago I shot a lot, and the farmers around the Lafayette, Louisville, and Superior areas here in Colorado used to pay me to thin out their Prairie Rats. Just the cost of reloading components.
What the heck, I'm not greedy.
Funny story about that...
There was a ten or so acre Prairie Rat colony just off Iris Street in Boulder in those days, and all the Boulderites used to show off the Prairie Rats to their visiting eastern relatives. Darned things were almost tame, and all the visiting city slickers used to ooo and aaa over the "cute" little pests. (You ain't lived until some of your livestock got injured in one of the adorable little creatures' holes.)
So anyhow, the news got out that the parcel of land was going to be devloped into a little shopping mall, and of course all the do-gooders got together to "rescue' the Vermin, and there was a big deal in the Boulder Daily Camera that went on for about a week about how they had hired one of those humane foam-pumping outfits to foam the Rats out of their holes, and there was a front-page picture of one of the animal control Officers holding a wet scruffy little Rat, smiling all to heck and putting it into one of the cages for relocation.
Well, you guessed it. The "relocation" area was a parcel of land owned by the Colorado Department of Transportation along Highway 36...
..which bordered one of my farmer's land.
Well, that Friday night I got a frantic call from my farmer buddy which more or less went, with expletives translated into the usual symbols, "230RN! How much ^%c(*^& ammo do you have?"
Jeez, I don't know, Mike. What's up?"
"Those &*%&&amn idiots are out there putting those (&*&&^ing prairie dogs out by the highway and they're running all over my (**^%((*ing pasture! Can you get out here this weekend?"
Well. Of course, after all that Doing of Good by Transplanting Cute Little Prairie Rats To The Highway Right Of Way, there I was all that weekend busting those which wandered onto Mike's land with my .223 varmint rifle.
It was my Prairie Rat Paradise for two whole days!
Oh, if all those Doers Of Good had known that!
Mike paid me well a week later with one of the best barbecues I ever sat down to.
What the heck, I'm not greedy.