I appreciate this level of determination. You go dude!
Please note, on the original post there were a few snarky comments about how he shoulda’ used a shotgun or hunted better or whatever. I’m not going there.
Can’t we all agree that society would benefit… that we’d be a mite less steeped in bullshit… if the average American male occasionally got off his expanding ass and chased down a pheasant and tackled it like a caveman? Also, I suck at bird hunting so what do I know?
When I feel like a bird dinner, I tromp all over hell with a double barreled shotgun and miss nearly everything that flies. More often than not I come home empty handed. (Which doesn’t bother me one bit. Those hunts have a different purpose.)
I also think it perfectly groovy that some dude with more patience than me set out to bowhunt pheasants. I also think it absolutely OK that he was willing to whack the shit out of an expensive hunting bow to net an 8 ounce meal.
I would never presume to tell another man how to hunt.
Hat tip to The Vulgar Curmudgeon. (Incidentally the filesize is huge, if this thing is more than an animated gif and it’s eating my hard drive or something, someone please tell me.)
A story about “Uglying” birds to death: http://eatonrapidsjoe.blogspot.com/2014/11/a-joke.html
Ha ha ha!
He had already mortally wounded the bird with the arrow, and it had no chance of surviving. He would be a pretty shitty “hunter” if he did not put it out of its misery. Regardless of how much his bow cost.
Yep, and he fulfilled his obligation.
What the heck? I’ve never been that close to our free-range chickens unless I had food in hand. Are those pen-raised birds or was that just a particularly stupid example of Pheasantus Costtonicus? Living in South Dakota the pheasant is sort of our combination of state bird, cash crop, pillar of the economy and a hunting season that starts well after the hangover has subsided and ends before it’s become too much effort (noon until sundown), which is truly a civilized way to enjoy the sport of hunting.
I love the guy’s dedication, sure, I’m just wondering about the intelligence of the bird.
True story: in the early part of the last century my grandfather and his brothers used to hunt pheasant at night using a buggy whip and a Model T. They’d head through a pasture in low gear, one brother driving and the others on the front wheel wells with the buggy whips. As a bird would pop its head up at the intrusion they’d whip at the head, often stunning or snapping the neck. Fast forward 80 years and prostate cancer, as Grandpa weakened he went from the autoloader to a single-shot shotgun to finally hunting with a pistol. Ruger Mark 2, as a matter of fact. There is something both humbling and terribly satisfying watching a man in the last stages of life still walking (slowly) the fields in search of game, enjoying the walk and the stalk, alert as only a hunter can be. The satisfaction comes from meeting at breakfast until at noon we start the walk, spending time with Grandpa, taking his measure and wondering if I will do so well at his age. When a rooster takes off in a thup-thup-thup of noise and fury and I raise and track with the very same autoloader he used to carry, yet even before I am on target and swinging to lead I hear a little “pop” and the feathers fly and there is Grandpa lowering his Mark 2 with a satisfied smile… Well, that’s the humbling part.
Before anybody gets all bent out of shape, remember I said I’m in South Dakota? There are three homes within three miles. Birds with a .22 is probably safer than deer with a .30-06 when it comes to stray rounds, and we let any yahoo with a license send high-power rounds over the horizon. Spare me the safety lecture, even if it was a slight risk I’ll take that old man with a .22 over anybody else with a shotgun inside of 100 yards.
– Max
I never got to hunt with my grandpa but every year I go out a few days “in his honor”. I suck at bird hunting and that’s what he liked, so I try to land a bird for grandpa. It seems the right thing to do.
Where I live the pheasants are uncommon but the few ones I see are dumber than a sack of hammers. I’m not sure if they’re raised and released or just God’s true feathered idiot. There’s one pheasant living near my mailbox and I’m hoping he’ll (I don’t know if it’s male or female but I presume male) live through the cold and breed in the spring. I’d like more pheasants in the area. Mrs. Curmudgeon insists no animal that dumb will ever get laid. She’s probably right.
Possible reasons to chase the pheasant:
1) He’s too embarrassed by his lame-ass arrow shot to let someone else see it. Hey, my buddy’s recording it! Not fair!
2) He doesn’t want the bird to suffer unnecessarily…nah
3) He hasn’t had his cardio workout that day
4) He discovered the pheasant this way and is putting it out its misery. Yeah, that’s the ticket
This is bowhunting. It’s only effective at close range. Good or bad, what most people do should be called arrow hunting.
Ha ha ha… well put!