Well, not quite.
Working on the dump truck this afternoon, I see C.C. (our cat) haulin' ass across the yard & by where I was working- a good 138 mph if I calculated correctly.
OK, the cat's a little loony sometimes, but he was haulin'. I got up to go get some duct tape & tinfoil from the house (necessary tools when working on old trucks), & as I look up into the side yard, I see
Folks that have been here at the ranch will recognize that the distance between the garage & the house, & the side yard by the barn (where he/she was) to the house are about the same. I stopped short in the driveway, & Da Bear halted.
We stared at each other- neither moved, except for me saying "Oh Shit" (I'm pretty sure I capitalized it).
That little .22 I always carry all of a sudden felt wicked puny.
I eyeballed the house quickly & realized the sun room porch door was open. I gave a whistle & a holler & hauled my own butt onto the porch & into the house. "Find the camera" thinks I, in typical blogger thought. "No dumbass, get the shotgun first"- oh yeah. Slipped in two slugs in front of the three 3/0 buck already in there, then grabbed the camera, & began to look for the beast.
Alas, I guess the whistle & holler did the trick, 'cause he had disappeared hisself into the woods.
Did get the adrenaline pumping though...
* Full disclosure- that's a borrowed web pic, close as I could find to his approximate size, in similar surroundings.
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