So between weather, church, and other stuff, I didn't make it up to my place to try one more time for a gobbler. But, my fate changed this afternoon...I got to experience the hunt of a lifetime...black squirrel with hounds
! And it was all within 25 yards of my backdoor (and martini shaker).
I was at this very computer, perusing this very forum, when Bebe the wonder dog came to let me know something was amiss. I let her out the back and low and behold I saw Spermophilus variegatus scurrying to the hollow oak behind the pool. No baying required, my dog and I are muy sympatico. She waited at the base of the tree while I hurriedly gathered the Rem 541-S, topped with a Leupold rimfire scope and loaded with CCI CB shorts, called for the moral-support backup (Daphne the "champagne" lab. She mostly bounces around and acts excited with nary a clue as to what's actually going on. She was reclined on the bed, next to the Mrs. watching her "programs"), and gave chase. My quarry was making barking noises back down the trunk, only 3 or 4 feet off the ground. I hate this species so much, I stooped to the unthinkable...I stuck the barrel up the trunk and made an old fashioned "sound shot". The barking continued, albeit quite a bit less enthusiastic. Another sound shot and then, absolute silence. I waited, but nothing stirred. I backed away and began walking to the house (and the martini shaker). Bebe, never the quitter, stuck her snout up the trunk. As I turned to look at her, pure Evil in Ebony came rocketing out the top of the old rotten trunk, leaped to another tree and proceeded skyward. It was out of its element, not knowing where the fox squirrel's nest, and safety, lie, not 20 yards away in the canopy. A final bead was drawn, the trigger was pulled, and my arch nemesis fell...stone dead. Daphne took her victory dip in the pool for all her hard work. Bebe went back to looking for something else, anything else, invading her territory. They did pause long enough for pictures: