My best friend always says that one of the annoyances of living on a farm is "the critters".
"Animals" live on a farm by design, "critters" are there as parasites.
Such is the case of groundhogs. One in particular had been rooting holes on the east end of Pat and Lisa's property for the last two years. At least until last night about 7:00pm.
Splitty the Maul was on the east porch relaxing in a rocking chair.
I'll let him take it from there.
"Ah saw it aaaaalllllll!!!!!!!!!!"
"Ol' Wal come out the side door an' let outta yelp. He said, 'Splitty, 'ere's dat danged ole groundhog at's been pissin' in Paw's oatmeal ever' mornin' fer a cuppla years.' ""
So what did he do Splitty?
"He ran inside like a moonshiner fetchin' his gun to shoot a revenuer. He grabbed the pellet gun, took aim, and knocked it's dick in the dirt."
How far away was the critter Splitty?
"A hunnert an' fiddy feet out."
A hundred and fifty feet? Really?
"Ah saw it aaaaalllllll!!!!!!!!!! Lookee here."
"Its a biggun, ain't it?"
Certainly is Splitty.
"Ah couldn't be prouder of the boy, ATM."
He's a great kid Splitty, no doubt.
The fact that he nailed it with the one pump pellet gun makes it even more amazing.
"Raght thru the dang throat Mike."
There you haver it ladies and gentlemen. The Uncle Splitty 2009 "Knock Your Dick In The Dirt" award goes to Wallace Patrick Lloyd.
Some days this blog just writes itself.
Air traffic Mike, ret.
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