I had hunted this particular forestry heaps of times and new there was a good boar kicking around. I could never pin point where he was living or put the dogs on him for a crack. It was a Sunday morning, I didn’t have anything planned, I had the flu really bad and wasn’t feeling…
“She’ll be right mate”, was my response to “what? You’re not taking a gun?” But no, the .44 was in pieces (lots more pieces than I anticipated) awaiting “cleaning”, .243 getting threaded for suppressor, .223 also at the gun smith and there was no way I was going to use the 7mm rem mag over…
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On the Friday night I had done the usual ritual of charging up the collars and drinking more beers than I needed to while watching a miserable loss to the all blacks from Australia. In the morning I dragged myself out of bed, let Sarsha out for a shit and loaded up the truck to…
We had seen a lot of pig digging but It was starting to get a bit boring so I had my PowerAde and treats Dad had brought me. All of a sudden, the dogs jumped down and went crazy. It all started on a Sunday morning, Dad came and woke me up so I jumped out…
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