Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Australia Declares War on Feral Cats

I seem to recall a study, from years ago, done in the canyons of San Diego CA regarding the lack of California quail in really great habitat. Lots of cover, along with abundant native food and then the neighborhood yards on the mesas with water and garden plants too. But no quail. Seems they figured out that removing/displacing the coyote population during initial human expansion had allowed the mesocarnivores in the area (possum, racoon, skunk, cats too maybe?) to keep quail populations functionally "extinct". Ground nesters have a tough enough time without unchecked populations of egg/nestling eaters.

I'll have to check with relatives in the area to see if the quail have returned now that the coyotes are "urbanized" and living in many of the canyons. There certainly still remains some great quail habitat in the non-buidable areas there.

Geno

One cold autumn evening I was sitting out back in the truck sipping and smoking a cigar and listening to the radio when all of a sudden here comes this gd cat.

I swung the door open, lowered the radio volume, and stood up ready to take my shot.

He disappeared.

I sat back down and left the door open with the rifle barrel hanging out continuing enjoy my smoke and drink...

Couple minutes later, God as my witness, this cat's head pops up from under the truck right next to my gun.

I moved it 2 inches and pulled the trigger.

That bullet only travelled 8 or 10 inches.
He flip flopped all around and I laughed enjoying a good smoke and a good drink and a beautiful sunset on a peaceful evening.

Quail you say,Geno.
Oh yeah.

That reminds me.

Me and my longbow was sitting up a tree one day and a batch of about dozen and a half quail come peeping and chirping to one another right beneath be.

I sat and smiled.
They're very vocal.
They communicate with a language all their own.

Anyway, they moved on and about 5 minutes later here comes this big black cat...
Right on their trail.

He heard me draw, looked up at me, and bolted.

He stopped up under a big cedar tree.
I picked a spot between branches and let fly.

Pinned him to the ground right there.

He struggled and flopped and kicked and fought and got himself up off my half buried arrow then walked about five yards and layed down and said "meow".

I laughed.
And the quail never even knew he was there.

Couple crazy friends of mine had this great big slingshot water balloon launching thingamajig and decided one night they was gonna have some fun and a few beers.

They went to town and caught some cats and drove over to the electric company's powerbooster relay station.

The first couple flyers skipped harmlessly off coils or transformers or whatever and hit the ground running never to be seen again but the next one didn't fare so well.

He got into something up there just right, with paws a flailing as he's a sailing, and the sparks just flew.

Snap crackle popped for two or three minutes, then his smoldering charred body dropped to the ground.


"We better get the f... outa here!"
"Yep. Let's go catch some more."