Proof of God's existence

[Obs]

[i_SLAM_cougars]

Cute little fella

[Obs]

Cute little fella

Tiny baby fox squirrel that would be dead if not for the lady holding it driving four hours to get it home and feeding it every two hours.

It also would never have been in jeopardy if I hadn't cut its home down. It has an interesting life ahead if it can hang on a few more weeks.

It's in top notch experienced hands though.

[Obs]

The question remains, can I nurse a squirrel with my hormone levels....

[jolter604]

The question remains, can I nurse a squirrel with my hormone levels....

Give him some almond milk and 50mg tren ace he will survive

FOOD IS EVERYTHING

[Obs]

Give him some almond milk and 50mg tren ace he will survive

FOOD IS EVERYTHING

Puppy milk replacer.
This guy will be slowly reintroduced to the outdoors. He will live the natty life having known the best mom ever.

[almostgone]

Puppy milk replacer.
This guy will be slowly reintroduced to the outdoors. He will live the natty life having known the best mom ever.

We used to use Esbilac when our females would have a large litter. There's just never enough capacity from the mother when you have 12 or 14 mastiff pups that all need to be fed.

[charger69]

The question remains, can I nurse a squirrel with my hormone levels....

You can nurse me! LOL


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[Beetlegeuse]

Tree rats are the bane of my existence. They help themselves to my garden and ravage my fruit trees.

I'm thinking that if you fatten him up nicely, in about six months that one would make a nice start to a sqwerl jambalaya.

[Obs]

Tree rats are the bane of my existence. They help themselves to my garden and ravage my fruit trees.

I'm thinking that if you fatten him up nicely, in about six months that one would make a nice start to a sqwerl jambalaya.

I bet I have shot and ate more of them than you.
I bet I never shoot one again.
Its more fun to warch them grow protective of their mom and watch her do what she loves.

It's also cheaper than a kid and more distracting.

[Beetlegeuse]

You might have me on the bet. I didn't do a lot of squirrel hunting when I was in the army. I had bigger game on my mind in those days. But my father started me on squirrel hunting when I was five. Which works out to 1961, so I have kilt my share. He was disabled and always "under-employed" so he had to hunt and fish to make ends meet. All his younguns were required to pitch in, so we all of us hunted and fished but not for sport.* Everything we killed, we killed for meat.

He let me hunt on my own (and keep my own .410) starting when I was 10. The only thing was, he'd only give me cartridges one at a time. But he'd give me another, provided I brought back something I'd killed with the first one. At least until he came to trust my shot selection. Shells cost too much to be wasting them.

He gardened, too. He loved gardening because he could put in a little work and then stand back and watch the food grow. And as you might expect from a man with his predilections, any pest that got into his garden also likely ended up in the stew pot.

Which is a tradition that I carry on today. Anything that eats from my larder (except kith and kin) is volunteering to be on the next day's menu.


*We even hunted frogs (at night) when the season was right. Park a truck on one side of the pond and shine a spotlight on the far bank. Look for their two beady little eyes shining in the spotlight and shoot between 'em with a .22. My oldest brother was the best shot I've ever seen (his tested eyesight was 20/11 in his dominant eye and 20/10 in the other). And my college ROTC unit's small bore squad won the NCAA national championship and one of my classmates was the individual national champion. So I've seen some shootin' sumbitches. But they didn't have shit on my brother, and he was shooting a plain old Remington 67, no shooting jacket, no fancy sights, no stabilizers.



Just skill.

Damn could that man shoot.

[Obs]

You might have me on the bet. I didn't do a lot of squirrel hunting when I was in the army. I had bigger game on my mind in those days. But my father started me on squirrel hunting when I was five. Which works out to 1961, so I have kilt my share. He was disabled and always "under-employed" so he had to hunt and fish to make ends meet. All his younguns were required to pitch in, so we all of us hunted and fished but not for sport.* Everything we killed, we killed for meat.

He let me hunt on my own (and keep my own .410) starting when I was 10. The only thing was, he'd only give me cartridges one at a time. But he'd give me another, provided I brought back something I'd killed with the first one. At least until he came to trust my shot selection. Shells cost too much to be wasting them.

He gardened, too. He loved gardening because he could put in a little work and then stand back and watch the food grow. And as you might expect from a man with his predilections, any pest that got into his garden also likely ended up in the stew pot.

Which is a tradition that I carry on today. Anything that eats from my larder (except kith and kin) is volunteering to be on the next day's menu.


*We even hunted frogs (at night) when the season was right. Park a truck on one side of the pond and shine a spotlight on the far bank. Look for their two beady little eyes shining in the spotlight and shoot between 'em with a .22. My oldest brother was the best shot I've ever seen (his tested eyesight was 20/11 in his dominant eye and 20/10 in the other). And my college ROTC unit's small bore squad won the NCAA national championship and one of my classmates was the individual national champion. So I've seen some shootin' sumbitches. But they didn't have shit on my brother, and he was shooting a plain old Remington 67, no shooting jacket, no fancy sights, no stabilizers.



Just skill.

Damn could that man shoot.

I grew up in the ozarks.
I killed everything that walked or crawled.
We ate most of it too.

Frogs we used a john boat and just blinded the bullfrogs and grabbed them.

I was alone in the woods with a rimfire from 6 and a shotgun at 8. Centerfire Rifle I may have been nine.

I got busy with life and stopped hunting. Now I won't kill it unless I will eat it. So until invaders hit home soil I probably won't be killing anything. I am not above eating the enemy to terrify them though.

Somewhere along the way I killed enough things unnecessarily that now I give back something. I know its not wrong to kill for my meal and I still do with dollars.

I have an affinity for innocent babies though.

The great white hunter spending hundreds and dedicating many hours to sending three baby squirrels that would have died, back into the wild.

We had squirrel dumplings btw.

Didnt matter what junk meat you put with dumplings it was good.

After the loss of our squirrel "Tren " I could never bear to harm a squirrel. He just was too big of a pain in my ass, for too long for me to not love the ahole.

[Beetlegeuse]

I once ate a snake that was SO LONG, it took me three days to get it all down.

I was shitting its tail while the other end was still trying to bite me.

[Obs]

I once ate a snake that was SO LONG, it took me three days to get it all down.

I was shitting its tail while the other end was still trying to bite me.

Had to be a marine

[i_SLAM_cougars]

So until invaders hit home soil I probably won't be killing anything. I am not above eating the enemy to terrify them though.

Yes... firstly because I’ll be eating their hypothalamus on the chance that gear will be scarce and I don’t want to cut into my doomsday stash unless necessary. Secondly for psychological warfare.

[Obs]

Yes... firstly because I’ll be eating their hypothalamus on the chance that gear will be scarce and I don’t want to cut into my doomsday stash unless necessary. Secondly for psychological warfare.

Hgh straight from the source...
Good thinking.
I was gonna have a hell of a time with testes

[Ernst]

Given the title of this thread I was expecting more hot, naked women and less... squirrel.

[almostgone]

You might have me on the bet. I didn't do a lot of squirrel hunting when I was in the army. I had bigger game on my mind in those days. But my father started me on squirrel hunting when I was five. Which works out to 1961, so I have kilt my share. He was disabled and always "under-employed" so he had to hunt and fish to make ends meet. All his younguns were required to pitch in, so we all of us hunted and fished but not for sport.* Everything we killed, we killed for meat.

He let me hunt on my own (and keep my own .410) starting when I was 10. The only thing was, he'd only give me cartridges one at a time. But he'd give me another, provided I brought back something I'd killed with the first one. At least until he came to trust my shot selection. Shells cost too much to be wasting them.

He gardened, too. He loved gardening because he could put in a little work and then stand back and watch the food grow. And as you might expect from a man with his predilections, any pest that got into his garden also likely ended up in the stew pot.

Which is a tradition that I carry on today. Anything that eats from my larder (except kith and kin) is volunteering to be on the next day's menu.


*We even hunted frogs (at night) when the season was right. Park a truck on one side of the pond and shine a spotlight on the far bank. Look for their two beady little eyes shining in the spotlight and shoot between 'em with a .22. My oldest brother was the best shot I've ever seen (his tested eyesight was 20/11 in his dominant eye and 20/10 in the other). And my college ROTC unit's small bore squad won the NCAA national championship and one of my classmates was the individual national champion. So I've seen some shootin' sumbitches. But they didn't have shit on my brother, and he was shooting a plain old Remington 67, no shooting jacket, no fancy sights, no stabilizers.



Just skill.

Damn could that man shoot.

I believe I have the close to the same model Winchester except the forestock on mine doesn't have the finger grooves. I do recall seeing a 67 with a peep sight on it at a recent gun show.

Pretty sure mine is a cheaper/lesser model but don't feel like opening up the stash right now to look at the model number, it's been a long day.

Mine is a single shot ( no magazine), shoots .22 shorts, .22 longs, and .22 long rifle. No provision for optics (not drilled and tapped). The rear sight is adjustable for elevation, by sliding the stepped leaf further under the rear sight, and no windage adjustment. Blade safety on the end of the bolt.

As a kid, I killed many, many squirrels with it before they cleared off a huge tract of oaks and hickory trees that belonged to the family of a friend of mine. Pretty much from mid-October or so on up to almost winter unless we had chores to do after school. Somewhere along about that time, I got my first shotgun, a little H&R Topper .410.


Edit: Correction on the model #, I'm thinking it is an old Model 57. I have seen one with a side mount scope at a gun show, which is what caught my eye.

I want to say I looked it up at one time and found a reprint of the original owner's manual and the side mount scope was an add-on. I'll pull the rifle out and look one day soon.

It was a long day machining some mold parts, I'm old, and it's my bedtime if I'm going to lift in the morning.

[Beetlegeuse]

Given the title of this thread I was expecting more hot, naked women and less... squirrel.

So you more the 'beaver' man, eh?