Post by x101airborne on Feb 23, 2022 15:10:46 GMT -5
It was not shot with a handgun. Just thought I would share my story.
Night before last I had a terrible night. Couldn't sleep, tossing and turning, dreaming of nightmares past I lived through. Finally got up and made coffee at 0400. Wife got up at 0600 and I told her I was heading to the ranch. I turned that diesel bulldozer north and stomped the throttle.
Got to the ranch right at daybreak. Parked the truck near some limestone piles and walked 200 yards into the brush near the creek and tucked myself up near some Huisache bushes. Full camo head net, camo shirt and a 8'x8' piece of camo netting to cover my legs. Predator calls around my neck, a Browning BPS 12 gauge full of 2 3/4 00buck in my lap and a CZ 204 Ruger leaning against a log with the scope on the lowest setting. As I grab my favorite squeaker, I notice something fall in my lap. The plastic plug containing the reed piece had come out of my call. "Danged it all" is the polite version of what went through my mind, but not giving up the fight I pinched it between my lips and began a soft cottontail in distress. Kinda worked in my favor because I didn't have to use my hands over the call to tone the sound.
I was thoroughly enjoying the morning; the sun was coming up at my 0730 and the wind was quartering into my face blowing my scent into an open field. I had about 100 yards total I could see with a lot of old brush and flood pushed grass dotting the area around the big drainage ditch. My setup seemed just right. Amazing how being in nature can ease the pain of little sleep and a cramping back.
I called for about 20 minutes; constantly scanning my little area for the tell-tale sign of a curious yote coming in to get breakfast. I honestly expected to see "Wiley" hanging up at the edge of the timber, reluctant to show himself. MUCH to my surprise, I look 30 yards in front of me and out of the corner of my eye I see an ear flick. It was just enough movement to catch my eye. Adrenaline shot into my veins as I realize there is a coyote laying on his belly staring at me under the flood trash. That yote belly crawled out of the timber through all that scrub so as not to be seen. We locked eyes. As soon as we did, I could read his thoughts. "That isn't breakfast, that is a human! Im out of here!" Faster than Johnny Hardin could pull his Colt Lightning, I grabbed that Browning with a grip that could choke a possum, swung and as soon as the bead covered his head, I fired. That 8 pellet load through a cylinder bore 24 inch barrel covered him from nose to toes. Still laying with his front feet in front of him, he stiffened up and gently rolled over; dead in his bed. Hair was still in the air and I had worked the action for a fresh round and covered him in case he was able to get up. After 20 seconds I realized no, there is no getting up.
I policed my gear, engaged the safety on all weapons and made my way to my prize. I thought "Danged, that is a good yote!" Little did I know it would be the biggest yote of my life. When I got to the main ranch I put him on a hanging scale. 45 1/2 pounds! Male, in his prime, very fat, very healthy. Dad excitedly looked him over. "That is a prime coyote. Too bad we dont have a fur market." The fur really was thick but the long winter hair was already starting to slip. Dad wasn't thinking of the 8 holes I had just bored into him. He commented "Mouth calls and you got him close enough for a shotgun!" He was very excited I got that calf and deer killing son of a so and so. I cant lie.. my chest was puffed out just a little bit.
If yall want pictures, someone is going to have to help me with it by cell text.
Night before last I had a terrible night. Couldn't sleep, tossing and turning, dreaming of nightmares past I lived through. Finally got up and made coffee at 0400. Wife got up at 0600 and I told her I was heading to the ranch. I turned that diesel bulldozer north and stomped the throttle.
Got to the ranch right at daybreak. Parked the truck near some limestone piles and walked 200 yards into the brush near the creek and tucked myself up near some Huisache bushes. Full camo head net, camo shirt and a 8'x8' piece of camo netting to cover my legs. Predator calls around my neck, a Browning BPS 12 gauge full of 2 3/4 00buck in my lap and a CZ 204 Ruger leaning against a log with the scope on the lowest setting. As I grab my favorite squeaker, I notice something fall in my lap. The plastic plug containing the reed piece had come out of my call. "Danged it all" is the polite version of what went through my mind, but not giving up the fight I pinched it between my lips and began a soft cottontail in distress. Kinda worked in my favor because I didn't have to use my hands over the call to tone the sound.
I was thoroughly enjoying the morning; the sun was coming up at my 0730 and the wind was quartering into my face blowing my scent into an open field. I had about 100 yards total I could see with a lot of old brush and flood pushed grass dotting the area around the big drainage ditch. My setup seemed just right. Amazing how being in nature can ease the pain of little sleep and a cramping back.
I called for about 20 minutes; constantly scanning my little area for the tell-tale sign of a curious yote coming in to get breakfast. I honestly expected to see "Wiley" hanging up at the edge of the timber, reluctant to show himself. MUCH to my surprise, I look 30 yards in front of me and out of the corner of my eye I see an ear flick. It was just enough movement to catch my eye. Adrenaline shot into my veins as I realize there is a coyote laying on his belly staring at me under the flood trash. That yote belly crawled out of the timber through all that scrub so as not to be seen. We locked eyes. As soon as we did, I could read his thoughts. "That isn't breakfast, that is a human! Im out of here!" Faster than Johnny Hardin could pull his Colt Lightning, I grabbed that Browning with a grip that could choke a possum, swung and as soon as the bead covered his head, I fired. That 8 pellet load through a cylinder bore 24 inch barrel covered him from nose to toes. Still laying with his front feet in front of him, he stiffened up and gently rolled over; dead in his bed. Hair was still in the air and I had worked the action for a fresh round and covered him in case he was able to get up. After 20 seconds I realized no, there is no getting up.
I policed my gear, engaged the safety on all weapons and made my way to my prize. I thought "Danged, that is a good yote!" Little did I know it would be the biggest yote of my life. When I got to the main ranch I put him on a hanging scale. 45 1/2 pounds! Male, in his prime, very fat, very healthy. Dad excitedly looked him over. "That is a prime coyote. Too bad we dont have a fur market." The fur really was thick but the long winter hair was already starting to slip. Dad wasn't thinking of the 8 holes I had just bored into him. He commented "Mouth calls and you got him close enough for a shotgun!" He was very excited I got that calf and deer killing son of a so and so. I cant lie.. my chest was puffed out just a little bit.
If yall want pictures, someone is going to have to help me with it by cell text.
