Sad to say, our pig hunt was a failure. No wild hogs showed up. However, a coyote that looked like a wild hog did. Around midnight I got up, worried that while I was trying to sleep herds of wild pigs were milling around the chicken house. It was a brisk 39 degrees, and wearing only a pair of shorts, flip flops, and a T-shirt, I headed up to the hog blind. Obviously I wasn’t going to be out long, but I just wanted a quick look. It was full moon, or nearly so, and I could see pretty well. I debating taking the 12 guage, but decided instead for the .223.
As I stood behind the blind, not even bothering to sit down, I seen movement come out of the woods. I stared into the low light. Sure enough, I could see the wild hog work it’s way towards the chicken house. It’s ears flopped as it walked, and I could see it’s snout. I was positive we would soon have fresh pork. I raised the AR-15, and looked through the lit green crosshairs. Aiming, I squeezed off a shot with the custom 3.5 pound Black Rain Ordnance trigger, sending a 55 grain Hornady ballistic tip towards the target at 3,200 fps.
As the crack of the rifle shot subsided, (yes, only one shot, despite the fact this was a semi auto, thank you very much) I looked for movement. There was none. I walked up to were I seen this pig. There it was, laying in the grass, dead as a porch post. But wait! This hog was very furry, and had a long tail! What was going on here? I looked at it again, and realized that it was actually a coyote. Yes, I was sure I seen a snout earlier, but it must have been a “buck fever” phenomenon. You know how bushes and trees all start to look like deer. The low light certainly didn’t help either. Thankfully, coyotes are also legal game in Florida, and they were in season. To the folks thinking it’s mean to shoot a coyote, imagine being a cute little fluffy chicken, and have this thing sneak up to you in the middle of the night and ripping your wings off (with razor sharp fangs)…
Sadly, Marlene did not want me to stuff the coyote in the motor home freezer. I was forced to put it in an ice chest with ice. Soon I discovered Marlene did not want it in the motor home either! So I ended up strapping it on a cargo basket that slid into the hitch. In hindsite, I’m glad I don’t have to trip over the ice chest.
Next stop-the Florida Keys…