Chapter 3--The Battle Rages On

I try to be fair, so first I will give you the newest details, then the score. However, I am thinking the scoring method needs to be revised into different categories, like degree of difficulty, artistic endeavor, etc...a flat line score is just not very accurate.

Wednesday night, Bill (a/k/a the sniper) stayed on the roof until about 2 am, since the remains of his last duck were brought out of the woods just in time for the trash man. Then, when we got home, there was a headless chicken lying on the boardwalk up to the front door...

As soon as Bill came in the house and turned off the inside lights, he did his coffee thing. Now, the coffee pot is on one end of the counter, the microwave at the other, and a huge window in between, looking at...you guessed it, the chicken coop, which is now spotlighted better than most maximum security prisons at night time. Bill had been blaming the neighbor's adopted stray collie for some of the latest disappearances. As he was putzing, he spotted a "white blur" moving up by the chicken coop, the chickens and the dog started doing the psychopath thing, then the blur was gone. Bill and the gun were in the house, the wild thing was outside... So, I asked for a few details about the white blur, and all I can say is that Bill will not make detective material. Is it bigger than a breadbox? Who knows... :) The bait count is 8 chickens.

Needless to say, the sniper was a little tired last night...we have to get up at 4:30 am to get everyone to work by 7. I was awakened by a crashing sound around 3 am...the lights were blazing away, and I could hear someone moving. So, of course, I asked, and Bill assured me it was him. The dog was in a frenzy...the crash was Bill hunting for ammo, and dropping his last bullet on my wood floor. I remember the door slamming, hearing a popping noise, and then the alarm clock.

The "white blur" apparently was a rather large racoon. When the dog and Bill spotted it sitting on the woodpile, scheming on which chicken to have for breakfast, everyone took off running...well, this would be ok, except the dog had a collar on, which is more than Bill had. He had his 22...that was pretty much it. We have no lights, other than his spot light, so he used the first two shots on shadows.

Well, the shadow shimmied up a tree, and the dog kept it there, so the great hunter came in to see if he had any more ammo. He found one bullet, so took off again before the dog gave up...I don't think he took the time to get dressed this time, either. Anyway, he shot, but one soft point 22 is not going to drop a coon...it took 5 bullets to bring down the possum. However, the coon started coming out of the tree...all Bill had was a shovel and an empty gun, and the light he was trying to blind the coon with so it would not jump on him. So, with the free hand, he tried to hit the coon with the shovel...the coon let go of the tree and stayed on the shovel. Anyway, the dog chased the coon over the ridge, and Bill was indoors when the alarm went off, with a firm resolve that we need more bullets.

I told him he was lucky we live far enough away from our neighbors that no one came out with a flashlight to check out the shooting...someone would have been surprised. ;) I can see, I'm going to have to rig up the video camera..."Dorf" has nothing on Bill. :)

The score is Wild Things 3, Bill 2.5...still with bait. :) But, I think you can see that a flat line score doesn't do this justice. ;>

For camping enthusiasts, there is only one place on the Baker Ranch I would not suggest pitching your tent...in the chicken pen... ;>