The softer side of a "Blood Thirsty" hunter...

[Danger 0]

This past Saturday I was driving home [Quite illegally I might add] with a somewhat slow fellow that works at the same BBQ shack as me. We were taking some back roads as opposed to the main street because we had to make a little detoure to a little shack back in the woods where Paul had forgotten his Marlboros earlier in the day.

    "You know, those things'll  kill ya one day, Too Tall", I said as I picked up the empty beer bottle from between my legs and spit out my mouthfull of Kodiak slobber. We called him "Too Tall" because of the fact that what he lacked mentally he made up for in stature. Paul is every bit of 6'5" but isn't much more than a boy, in the head that is.   

    I don't know why we tell him not to smoke. As a matter of fact, i'm the one that buys him his cigarettes. You see, Paul has a crush on the older, homely woman that works the register of the gas station. She lets me buy them for him because he can't even remember his own favorite brand.

    Well, back to the drive home.

    "I'm is a grown person", he informed me with a snide, brown toothed snarl. "You cain't be my boss..."

    Paul stopped in mid-sentence as I veered into the other lane to avoid a rather large doe that was layed out on our side of the lane. It was a hair past mid-night and I almost didn't see her but I could tell that she had recently be killed because her blood still shined in the headlights.

    After I got Paul calmed down and not screaming, I pulled into an old gravel lot to get a closer look at her. After all, this could potentially be dinner for the next fourt-night and if the meat wasn't to badly beat up I could salvage her carcasse. I climbed out of the truck with my cell phone handy because it was the only source of light around. I walked up on her gradually visible body that lay twisted and contourted on the blacktop. When I dropped the light down around her head I reached down and as my head grazed her still-wet snout she pumped her lungs and forced in a fluttering breathe. She was still alive. I stepped back and took in the situation. I may be a hunter but I have a heart. I have a heart and every bit of it went out to this doe. She continued to lay there, eyes closed and gasping for labored breathes, as her blood slowly spread out from her mangled figure in the moonlight.

    "I can't just leave her like this", I thought as I headed be to the truck. I searched the bed for my rifle that I usually have handy for any type of sticky situation. It wasn't there. I wanted so badly to put her out of her misery and end her suffering but I couldn't. I felt like I was failing her. I felt as if the fact that I had stopped had made it my responsibility to somehow bring her back from these dire straights and send her back home. I didn't have any means that I could go about doing this, though. So, I walked back over to her, still softly gasping her last dying breathes, and grabbed her gently around the chest under her legs. I pulled her to the back of the gravel lot, where the woods met the drive-way. I softly rested her head on the grass and scratched her ears as I retreated to the truck. After all, I was late to begin with. No way in hell my mom would believe me when I told her why I was this late.

    The whole ride home I couldn't think of anything except for what the poor doe had to be going through. Sprawled out, motionless, writhing in pain in the broken up moonlight all alone with the whole woods waiting for her to die so that it can devoure her.

      This is just a sort of outlet for something that happened earlier in school. A girl called me out for my "Vote Republican For President" pin that I was wearing and the argument hop-scotched from one subject to another until she called me a heartless, blood-thirsty murderer because of the fact that I hunt. Also, during fifth period I saw a opossum sitting helplessly in a tree as kids pelted it with rocks and books as the poor thing was getting soaked with rain. I took it upon myself to run off the kids and even toted a box out to the tree so that I could grab him [at my own expense for those of you who know what kind of damage a opossum can do] and relocate him to the woods that surround our property.

      I'm just so sick and tired of ignorant people pointing fingers and calling names. Thanks for reading to those that did. It feels good to get this kind of stuff out.

[Danger 0]

This was mean't to be just another story from recent memory but looking at it I'm not at all satistfied with the way it came out. Sorry to those who thought it was going to be one of my usual masterpieces. lol. I just woke up.

[SheHateMe 0]

I thought it was pretty good poet.  Always good readin.

[Danger 0]

I thought it was pretty good poet.  Always good readin.

Stop calliln' me 'poet' all of the time. lol.

[SheHateMe 0]

I think you should change from Danger or your other handle to poet.

[Danger 0]

This past Saturday I was driving home [Quite illegally I might add] with a somewhat slow fellow that works at the same BBQ shack as me. We were taking some back roads as opposed to the main street because we had to make a little detoure to a little shack back in the woods where Paul had forgotten his Marlboros earlier in the day.

    "You know, those things'll  kill ya one day, Too Tall", I said as I picked up the empty beer bottle from between my legs and spit out my mouthfull of Kodiak slobber. We called him "Too Tall" because of the fact that what he lacked mentally he made up for in stature. Paul is every bit of 6'5" but isn't much more than a boy, in the head that is.     

     I don't know why we tell him not to smoke. As a matter of fact, i'm the one that buys him his cigarettes. You see, Paul has a crush on the older, homely woman that works the register of the gas station. She lets me buy them for him because he can't even remember his own favorite brand.

     Well, back to the drive home.

     "I'm is a grown person", he informed me with a snide, brown toothed snarl. "You cain't be my boss..."

     Paul stopped in mid-sentence as I veered into the other lane to avoid a rather large doe that was layed out on our side of the lane. It was a hair past mid-night and I almost didn't see her but I could tell that she had recently be killed because her blood still shined in the headlights.

     After I got Paul calmed down and not screaming, I pulled into an old gravel lot to get a closer look at her. After all, this could potentially be dinner for the next fourt-night and if the meat wasn't to badly beat up I could salvage her carcasse. I climbed out of the truck with my cell phone handy because it was the only source of light around. I walked up on her gradually visible body that lay twisted and contourted on the blacktop. When I dropped the light down around her head I reached down and as my head grazed her still-wet snout she pumped her lungs and forced in a fluttering breathe. She was still alive. I stepped back and took in the situation. I may be a hunter but I have a heart. I have a heart and every bit of it went out to this doe. She continued to lay there, eyes closed and gasping for labored breathes, as her blood slowly spread out from her mangled figure in the moonlight.

     "I can't just leave her like this", I thought as I headed be to the truck. I searched the bed for my rifle that I usually have handy for any type of sticky situation. It wasn't there. I wanted so badly to put her out of her misery and end her suffering but I couldn't. I felt like I was failing her. I felt as if the fact that I had stopped had made it my responsibility to somehow bring her back from these dire straights and send her back home. I didn't have any means that I could go about doing this, though. So, I walked back over to her, still softly gasping her last dying breathes, and grabbed her gently around the chest under her legs. I pulled her to the back of the gravel lot, where the woods met the drive-way. I softly rested her head on the grass and scratched her ears as I retreated to the truck. After all, I was late to begin with. No way in hell my mom would believe me when I told her why I was this late.

     The whole ride home I couldn't think of anything except for what the poor doe had to be going through. Sprawled out, motionless, writhing in pain in the broken up moonlight all alone with the whole woods waiting for her to die so that it can devoure her.

       This is just a sort of outlet for something that happened earlier in school. A girl called me out for my "Vote Republican For President" pin that I was wearing and the argument hop-scotched from one subject to another until she called me a heartless, blood-thirsty murderer because of the fact that I hunt. Also, during fifth period I saw a opossum sitting helplessly in a tree as kids pelted it with rocks and books as the poor thing was getting soaked with rain. I took it upon myself to run off the kids and even toted a box out to the tree so that I could grab him [at my own expense for those of you who know what kind of damage a opossum can do] and relocate him to the woods that surround our property.

      I'm just so sick and tired of ignorant people pointing fingers and calling names. Thanks for reading to those that did. It feels good to get this kind of stuff out.

Some Thoughts On Life, Love, and Getting

[rebel_wrestler_171 0]

awesome post almost as good as the one about walmart