Like you, I have waited a few and gotten a bonus piglet or two when they come back. One of the extra benefits of shooting a sow over a boar. Oddly enough, this big sow had no piglets in that huge gut when a friend took her to the processor. Must have all been corn and rice bran! Those carbs will put it on you.....
Well -- y e a h
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Jaguartx ,
Was there a Dr. on the fire who had a buddy leg shanked by a -shot- boar hog ?
Couple/three of years ago ?
I dont remember that Mike. I was nearly nailed by 3 boar and one momma javelina that surrounded me and alternated chaging from opposite corners at the same time after i had jumped from behind a live oak as the herd filed past me on a deer trail to grab the last little one in line on a deer hunt one time near Gonzales once when i was in college.
Yes GW, when i was a kid in the 60s the timber co lands in east Texas were unfenced. Grandad let his cattle run on timberlad part of the year and his on the rest. He fed chopped field corn at the barn at times to keep them in truck horn hearing distance of it.
Stock dogs like ole Yeller would toll or drive free range cattle to pens with funnel arms. The dog leading the lead cow in would escape under a rough cut oak plank or jump to the top of the fence and make it over, or not. Those cows were wild.
Horses and mules were kept fenced in the private pasture or house trap if being used.
Ive told of cousin and i going to the corn fields a mile through the woods with the farm/ranch pack of curs, fiests, black and tans and blue ticks one day and they attacked a sounder of hogs and drove them into the pond and branch leading to it.
Grandad paid a dollar for any wild hog we killed out of the corn fields. A quarter for terrapins out of the purple hulls ot tomatoes and 50 cents for a crow. We had so far only collected on terrapins. Dayom crows were smart and the reminton was missing one sight. Sometimes it took 10-12 shots to roll a fox squirrel from the top of a tall pine.
A dog or three would be fighting each hog in the water and we took turns with the ss 22 bolt gun shooting them. I was about 10 and sometimes had nightmares for years after from the fear of hitting dog instead of hog.
Well, i had a nice sheath western co or some such sheath knife i had gotten from Santa and my older cousin Johnny had thrown and stuck in the side of the outhouse. Being young and dumb i didnt work it riggt and broke a quarter inch off the point pulling it out. I was pissed at him and he worked trying to refashion a point with the big whetstone. It got passable. Cousin and i somehow got seperated in the pond/hog shoot melee and a big black hog came toward me in a rush in the high marsh grass in the high marsh grass at the tail end of the pond dam.
I could only see the top six or eight inches of its back parting the grass as it came, at the time i thought, for me.
I had that knife and decided i would jump to the side as it reached me and stick him through the heart as it passed. Wel,, being young and dumb i didnt lead the heart area as mr piney woods rooter rushed past. I stabbed but was slow and the knife tip hit it in the ham a bit higher than dead center and i guess at an angle with the point lower than the haft. I remember thinking it felt as if i had tried to stab a thick plank and instantly the handle was jerked from my hand.
I guess i will never forget the sight of my beloved Bowie bounding away from me while barely stuck in the butt of that hog at roughly a 30 degree angle. What was notable to me at the time was that for split seconds my knife appeared motionless for split seconds at times but then wiggled up and down violently as the hogs hind legs hit the ground.
Thats what i last remember seeing of my knife as the hog disappeared into the woods. Shake, steady, shake, steady......
Well we were just kids and told our older farm hand cousins of the story and they laughed at us mere kids supposedly killing either 7or 9 hogs in the pond so we didnt tell Grandad.
A few days later he went to plow old Bill in the fields and as the branch in the woods was dry he took him to water in the pond. Oh hell. We were in trouble a bit until we told him we had told the big guys and they thought we were kidding.
They had to swim out and rope the floaters and drag them out. He was stil, pissed enough he chewed on the big wart just below his right lower lip for a few days so we thought it best not to remind him he owed us.
Thanks grandad puss-Ervin for putting up with us grandkids all summer. May you rest in peace.