Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Dillinger The Horror Hog

The following text and photos are courtesy of Ed's brother Bill. Bill lives on a farm (where dinasours have been discovered!) south-west of Dallas, Texas. We've seen many pictures of the beautiful flora and fauna that Bill discovers there, but nothing quite like this. Sort of makes us look like a big bunch of pussies calling the fire department to come get our rattlesnake. Of course, you didn't SEE the rattlesnake....he was scary....and had fangs....and was all.....well.....all rattly and stuff.

Enough of my scary adventure, read on to see what Bill has to say about his:

DATELINE: Thursday, April 23, 2009, around midnight, Jones Farm, Paluxy, Texas. I went out walking by starlight (again) to see what the pigosaurs were up to. I found one. We fought. I won.

RESEARCH DATA ACQUIRED: We have Russian Boars here on the farm (in the yard even); they are big; they are mean; they will hide in the dark; they gallop; they make strange, disturbing sounds; they will attack humans; they are the most hideous creatures I have ever seen outside of horror movies and my weird dreams, thirteen carefully distributed rounds at close range with a Colt .45 M1911A1 pistol will kill one. Eventually. Maybe. If you don't freak out. Oh, and those little 75 lumen LED flashlights are excellent. Highly recommended for porcine search and destroy combat missions.

Did I mention the damn thing attacked me? He attacked me twice, actually. Ha. (He should have quit when he was ahead.) He was a generally disagreeable sort, it would seem. I noticed later that he had one broken tusk (not from our scuffle), about a third of one ear torn off and healed, and he was variously scarred, all presumably from fighting with his piggy rivals.

THE BATTLE: In retrospect, I'm not exactly sure which of us attacked first there in the dark, illuminated only by the bluish LED light. Me, I think, with the first shot, when he was hiding in the weeds starring at me from about fifteen feet away. But, he charged me instantly. It took five shots to turn him. He veered from about three feet of me on the fifth round.

A second clip (full this time with 8 rounds) and two shots stopped him from leaving at about 60 feet away. (A wounded boar hog in the neighborhood is a bad thing.) He turned back and galloped directly at me again. I kept the flashlight on him and moved to my left, firing four more times as he approached a few feet to my right. The seventh (12th overall) apparently struck him behind the right eye, installing a neat, round, half inch hole in his skull.

He flipped around counterclockwise about 8 feet from me and fell down on his right side. Then he began to get up. I fired the thirteenth and final round which he received uttering a pig noise. He flopped some more, still trying to get up.

My next trigger pull went click. Out of ammo. So, I just watched. A few minutes later he gave up and expired. Which was nice.

(My note: Only Bill would be drinking a cup of coffee while standing next to fresh kill.)
He had a buddy that observed from over in the shadows, but, stayed out of sight so I never saw him/it. He/it oinked and snorted, though. I found some fresh tracks near the abode today. I think he/it is lurking around, probably scheming vengeance. (Bring it, filthy swine! bwahahahah!)

Was I scared? Oddly, no. Was it exciting? Absolutely! I'm still enjoying it five days later. I want to do it again!! Wah-hah! Do it again, do it again. Harder, faster! :^)

I named him Dillinger (posthumously), after that old timey gangster guy in the pictures who was all full of holes.

Hmm. What else. ok. No, I didn't eat him. I cut off his head with a combat/survival knife and an axe, then impaled it on a steel pike. (I want the skull.) I sliced off his ropey, funky tail, then hung it on the meter pole. I hauled his headless carcass up to Dead Cow Corner and released it back into the wild (for the dining pleasure of the vultures, coyotes, and other pigs). By then it was dawn. Four or five hours later, I went to sleep. (I was tired.)

SIDE NOTE: Feral hogs have become a problem here in North Texas. It's bordering on infestation. They are destructive, numerous, and dangerous. The Texas Parks and Wildlife Dept. has classified them as nuisance animals. They reproduce prolifically and natural predation is apparently of insignificant impact. The only other critters I have killed during the past couple of years that I've lived here are a few snakes, some mice, and one noisy crow that got on my nerves one day. heh. Game animals abound here, but, I enjoy seeing them more than eating them.

These stinking hogs, however, even though I don't hate them (yet), are different. I'm not out to eradicate them, and I don't plan to bait them or trap them or make a big deal out of it. But, stalking them on foot in the dead of night with a pistol and a flashlight is a blast, and, shooting them on sight is acceptable to me.

(My note: That eye is just creeeepy)
(My note: OK, so your guy has a tusk. But is it sharp like the fangs on my rattlesnake? No, I think not. We had FANGS to deal with. Uh, sharp ones!)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Supernatural Hair
They Must Have Been On Sale
Shadows Of The Setting Sun


Anonymous said...

I am more afraid of the snake.

Sarmen Khosdeghian said...

It is said that Adonis (of antiquity) stared down an ancestor of Dillinger's and Adonis didn't quite make it. I think history would be different had Adonis invested in a Colt .45 M1911A1 pistol like Bill (Ed's brother) so wisely has. He would not be just a dead pretty boy.

See Salena, you never know when you might need a gun handy, huh? And, I do agree with you about the snake being more scary...that whole slithering and hissing and rattling and what with no legs and hell, your shot pattern had better be better than Bill's cause placing 13 bullets into a snake that's best used for adorning cowboy boots is really difficult. Especially when you're scared shitless.

Classic the pictures and the story.

Anonymous said...

...Bill's story is amazing, absolutely amazing...thanks for sharing...rattlesnakes and hogs...geez I do live a mundance life, lol...MAE

Gil said...

Great story. They are dangerous and very destructive to humans and agriculture. In Italy they are called "cinghiale" and hunters take great pride in getting one. The meat is delicious and I hope Ed's brother saved you guys some.

sheila said...