Attention: TDR Forum Junkies 
New uniform trousers-$70. 00
New uniform SS shirt-$50. 00
3 rounds of 12 ga. 00 buck- ?
A picture of me chasing a rabid fox through a golf course... PRICELESS !!!
That's right, went into work today at 1500, first call at 1505, rabid fox on the golf course chasing golfers with wild abandon. So off I go, like 100 times before, to destroy the animal, except this time, it's on a golf course. I arrive, meet up with the "PRO" who will take me to the beast and find him sitting at about 75 yds. from the cart path, right on a fairway. Can't drive any closer, so I'm now on foot with a Rem. 870 loaded with 00 buck
#ad
and my gun bearer,a animal control officer armed with the ever trusty dog snare. After some small talk with the golfers on scene (mind if I play through I ask, breaks up the tension that's so thick that you can cut it with a knife) I approach this rabid maneater with carefully placed steps. Leaving out the gore, less I get attacked by P. I. T. A. , let's just say that I couldn't get any closer than 40 yds before the monster starts to run away, towards the "bush" (woods, that is). Now, knowing that a 12 ga. loaded with 00 doesn't pattern worth a I TRIED TO BY-PASS THE CUSSING FILTER at 25 yds, less than 40 plus, I'm guessing that I hit him with maybe two pellets on each of the three shots, before he escapes into the woods, heavy thorn infested woods ( as I was soon to find out). I approach the unforgiving bush (woods that is again) and spot a blood trail. Hmmm, I think (actually, I was thinking O'I TRIED TO BY-PASS THE CUSSING FILTER), now I have to go after the beast in his territory. So off I go, with my trusty gunbearer, following the spore. We follow the blood trail for over 300 yds, rough, rip the clothes off your back yds. , only to find the trail dead ends at the edge of a steep, 80 ft. drop cliff . Seems my quarry committed suicide before I could end the ordeal. Actually, I was not too happy to leave a wounded animal without finding him, but I'm confident that he took the leap as another 30 minutes of searching found no other possible answer, i. e. , the blood trail ended. Morale of the story, we sometimes do more than just harass the general motoring public and don't bring a SG to a long range fox hunt. I hope I didn't offend anyone with this short story, I found some humor in it as I looked over my uniform, torn and tattered from the "hunt".
Scott W.
New uniform SS shirt-$50. 00
3 rounds of 12 ga. 00 buck- ?
A picture of me chasing a rabid fox through a golf course... PRICELESS !!!
That's right, went into work today at 1500, first call at 1505, rabid fox on the golf course chasing golfers with wild abandon. So off I go, like 100 times before, to destroy the animal, except this time, it's on a golf course. I arrive, meet up with the "PRO" who will take me to the beast and find him sitting at about 75 yds. from the cart path, right on a fairway. Can't drive any closer, so I'm now on foot with a Rem. 870 loaded with 00 buck
#adand my gun bearer,a animal control officer armed with the ever trusty dog snare. After some small talk with the golfers on scene (mind if I play through I ask, breaks up the tension that's so thick that you can cut it with a knife) I approach this rabid maneater with carefully placed steps. Leaving out the gore, less I get attacked by P. I. T. A. , let's just say that I couldn't get any closer than 40 yds before the monster starts to run away, towards the "bush" (woods, that is). Now, knowing that a 12 ga. loaded with 00 doesn't pattern worth a I TRIED TO BY-PASS THE CUSSING FILTER at 25 yds, less than 40 plus, I'm guessing that I hit him with maybe two pellets on each of the three shots, before he escapes into the woods, heavy thorn infested woods ( as I was soon to find out). I approach the unforgiving bush (woods that is again) and spot a blood trail. Hmmm, I think (actually, I was thinking O'I TRIED TO BY-PASS THE CUSSING FILTER), now I have to go after the beast in his territory. So off I go, with my trusty gunbearer, following the spore. We follow the blood trail for over 300 yds, rough, rip the clothes off your back yds. , only to find the trail dead ends at the edge of a steep, 80 ft. drop cliff . Seems my quarry committed suicide before I could end the ordeal. Actually, I was not too happy to leave a wounded animal without finding him, but I'm confident that he took the leap as another 30 minutes of searching found no other possible answer, i. e. , the blood trail ended. Morale of the story, we sometimes do more than just harass the general motoring public and don't bring a SG to a long range fox hunt. I hope I didn't offend anyone with this short story, I found some humor in it as I looked over my uniform, torn and tattered from the "hunt".
Scott W.
