Do you get these gawdbedamned things down south?
There’s no help for it. Mort is going to have to be flogged. I just happened to look out the window…and the retarded mutt was lounging in the snow, nose to beak with this little %#@&*€. With a fast snap of his mighty jaws - he could have eaten him and earned my undying gratitude. But they just sat there, side by each…sharing the day like the best of friends. A-holes!!!
When I was a kid on the farm I used to try to shoot these buggers. Every summer they’d sit outside my bedroom window and squawk at 5:00 in the morn: “YAK GAKGAKGAK! YAK GAKGAK!” They’d sit on the front patio or nearby trees doing that… and the second I went for the .22…the sonsabitches were gone. They’d steal food out of the cat dish out front, they’d raid the bird feeders… and I swore that one day…I’d kill one of these things. I don’t think I ever did though. They come by in the city all the time now because they know - somehow…that I can’t shoot them. They’ll snuggle up to Mort because they know he won’t eat them. They wouldn’t go near the neighbour’s dawg because they knew that he’d rip them to shreds. They used to gang up on him: one would fly down and dance and yak right at the limit of the dawg’s chain, and the poor dawg would lose his mind barking and snarling at it while he strained at his chain…while the other bird would sneak in behind and clean out his food dish. Then they’d switch. The poor pup would end up at the day exhausted and hungry. They have ESP and seem to know instinctively who their friends and enemies are.
I see on OyTube they have adult pellet guns again. These aren’t the toys we played with as kids - they are $2200.00 precision tools with top end Nightforce optics and bipods and can take critters out past 100 yards. They are just the ticket in the city because they’re totally quiet and much less lethal than even the little .22. Baloney Bob bought one 100 years ago and we’d sit on his back deck, get sloshed on red wine and shooting in his back yard. Any magpies that came round were dead meat.
It was all fun and games till one day, we spotted a tree full of them and Bob went to work, quietly sniping the ones at the bottom and slowly moving up. He’d gotten about four or so when when the rest got wise and flew outta Dodge.
Unfortunately the old bint that owned the property was mortified. At the time West Nile Disease was going round, carried by small pests and varmints and they could give it to humans. When she saw all the dead Ukrainian pheasants, she called the city’s Department Of Dead Birds…and they sent someone out to collect the bodies and take them in to the lab for examination. We wisely put the gun away and behaved ourselves after that.
I wonder if Bob still has that rifle?
Back before I dumped $!^@Tube, I used to watch a really great channel of a guy that was a champion pellet gunner in Wisconsin. What he could do with a pellet was amazing.ReplyDelete
Growing up, we had on the farm the ol' Daisy 880 and a really old Crossman pellet gun that was my dad's from the 1950's.
Was that Ted? He picks off pest birds round the farm and such? That guy RULES. He is a magnificient shot....Delete
I am surprised he has survived. The bunny huggers and PETA girls took a hate on to him and they complained and did the social justice mob thing... and OyTube still didn't take him down. Some of his kills get pretty graphic...
Yup, it was Ted. Amazing shooterDelete
I bought a break barrel spring Gamo 177. The Damn thing will nearly shoot thru a steel pellet trap. If used hybrid pellets with steel bb in end, it prolly would go thru. Powerful but disgustingly inaccurate.ReplyDelete
Around here the magpies are carrion eaters, cleaning up the roadkill. They populate the fencerows and roadside powerlines, trying to drag whatever carcass they're munching on to the side of the road.ReplyDelete
The most obnoxious birds here are the blue jays. I once had a big, black tomcat named Frank, and he was lounging in the driveway baking in the warm summer afternoon, and the jays were raising a horrendous racket. Squawking and screaming and swooping at Frank. He seemed to be ignoring them entirely, not moving a muscle. But when one bird swooped just a tad too close, he exploded with a swing that would do Bruce Lee proud. There was a billowing cloud of blue feathers, and Frank sitting there in the remains of shredded jay with the most smug look I've ever seen on a cat.
I used to kill them on my uncles farm.I hated them because when cows were freshly branded the stinking birds would sit on them and peck their scabs. I noticed that they always landed on fence posts first. So I started putting rabbit traps connected to chains on the top of the posts. Every morning I would come out to at least two that were caught. I would grab the end of the chain and swing it so that the bird would bonk its head on the post. I bet I got maybe a hundred that way.ReplyDelete
no magpies, crows onlyReplyDelete
they are no bother here merely scavenging for food
there are several huge rookeries of them
at sunset they return to the trees by what seem to be thousands