Holy moly....it is on in the front yard. Bruce heard a crow (of all things) squawking in the front yard, grabbed his pellet gun conveniently located by the front door, and has fired off several shots as I type. And the squawking is outrageous....I can't believe one black bird can make so much noise but this one can. I haven't heard a thud yet but boy, it sure just got real quiet. Meanwhile, Sister, his ace hunting and retrieving wiener dog has just gone into a frenzy to be let out to join the killing frenzy. She's doing the hunting squeal that's almost worse than the crow. And it's only 8:45 am. OMG....now Presley (above) from next door has joined in. I'm just waiting for a police car to pull up. Ya know.....some people get up on Saturday morning and drink coffee, read their paper, and otherwise act normal. Not a Harris male. Never. Just can't do it. They have to "hunt" in the front yard in full view of the entire neighborhood.
I'm just back from getting more coffee and uh, oh....there was a knock on the kitchen window. As I look up, wanna guess what Fred was holding, by the feet, with a big old smile on his face? Sister was beyond thrilled and once again thinks he's George Clooney. Me? I'm thinkin' more Jed Clampitt.
In fairness to the previously maligned Presley, I'm going to have to say that when I ran out in my robe and slippers to take her pic (some people just have no couth any more) she was as calm and well mannered as anyone could have wanted, never mind that was her Dad (Buz) on the other end of her leash. Ahhhh, maturity. What a gift.
If Fred runs out of game in your neck of the woods, please, please send him to my north forty. The crows (grackles? they're huge) are back and attacking my front glass door. They also have pecked away the rubber gasket around son's new car's sun roof. In one hour! All hunters welcome!
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