All Entries Tagged With: "Rockies"

Missing Persons Told

The following is a partial list of those declared missing in action during the first rifle season in Sectors RJ4663 and ST2229. Also covered are gated communities and gerrymandered neighborhoods on Skunk Mesa, Pretense Homes at Golf Living, Bill’s Bowl and The Ski Trenches. (October 28, 2015)

Bambi, address listed as Uncompahgre National Forest in Colorado
Yogi Bear, Yellowstoned Park Retirement Acres
Thumper, no address given
Boo Boo Bear, no address given
Mister Ed, Evans Stables, Sand Creek, Colorado
Elsie the Cow, Ski Trenches, Crested Butte, Colorado
Lassie, no address given
Trigger, no address given
Rin Tin Tin, Hollywood, CA
John Deere, The Great Midwest
Lawrence Elk, Bismarck
John Doe, Bismarck
Old Yeller, no address given
Foghorn Leghorn, Hollywood, CA
Donald Duck, Hollywood, CA
Pegasus, no address given

HUNTERS SHOOT HORSE

A Dream Shot of Some Consequence

(A true story with Uncle Pahgre — October 27, 2015)

(Delta) It all seemed to make sense, at first. A friend of ours, who shall remain very nameless, was awakened from his early winter hibernation by a loud pounding on his back door. He threw on a robe and stumbled in the direction of the interruption. When he opened the door he saw two men in blaze orange, heads hung down, shuffling their feet, serious about gaining his immediate attention.

“We done shot your horse, mister,” said the first, “and we come to make reparations.
The second man held out a wad of cash that turned out to be one hundred dollars in the company of four more bills of like currency.

“Well, come in,” yawned my friend. “I guess that was the shot we heard earlier. This time of the year one gets used to guns going off all around. What the hell time is it anyway?”

“Bout eleven,” whispered the first looking around the kitchen in the direction of assorted snores from the hallway.

“You people hit the hay early round these parts, heh?” winked the second man who turned out to be from just outside Dallas.

“We’re up here from Texas hunting and despite what you may have heard we’re responsible, respectable and accountable.”

“Then what’s all this about a horse?” asked my friend.

“Well, you remember the part about responsibility?” offered the first hunter. “That only goes so far, I guess. We’ve been prowling these hills for two weeks and ain’t seen nothing of an elk, unless you count the scat. We were frustrated. We were tired and hungry and headed back to a motel down the road when, just as dusk pulled up her skivvies, we saw movement in the hay field just north of here.”

The first hunter went on.

Jim here decided that it might be our last chance at glory so he took a chance. He sighted in and pulled the trigger. Blam! Then blam again. What a shot! Dropped that elk like a ton of greasy enchiladas on a Saturday night! Cow elk too, you know. No horns. And we each had a million-dollar tag right here in our pocket. Some shootin, Jim.”

The second man just smiled, still embarrassed but yet a little bit proud of his expertise with a rifle.

“We climbed your fence and snuck out to the kill which was dead as an armadillo after arm wrestling a semi on Highway 287. Then the problem emerged. It wasn’t a bull elk. No. It wasn’t a buck or doe, but neither was it a cow elk. It was your horse, mister.”

My friend just stared at the kitchen table.

“The old swayback. She was getting to be an old lady, too slow to ride much less dodge a bullet. Where is she now?”

The two men laid the five hundred dollars on the table and told him the mare was still laying in the spot where she dropped. He sighed.

“How am I going to get around reporting this to the authorities?” he asked.

“We hoped the five hundred would help you make that decision. It ain’t a bribe but it’s a far sight more than that old girl was worth alive. We realize that local cops would put our buts in a sling over this episode but I think you can see that out hearts, if not our brains, are in the right place.”

My friend yawned. He though to himself of a new tractor he needed. He thought of Christmas and his kids. He thought of the good it would do to turn these poor hayseeds into the pencil-pushing cops.

“You boys want a cup of coffee? I gotta think this out. Tell me again, what made you shoot what you thought was game on private property at dusk. Don’t you ever read the back of your hunting license. Cripe, at the cost of the thing I’d think you’d memorize every word just in case you lost it.”

The hunters went through their thinking process one more time dwelling on their fatigue and frustration. They apologized again saying that they wouldn’t blame my friend if he turned them in and pressed charges for trespassing and the whole cheroot.

“OK, but if I ever see you on my land again you’ll be the horsemeat,” he said “Now can you find your way back to your motel or should I drive you?”
They both laughed the laugh of men much relieved. They thanked him again and departed. He watched them as he pulled on his coveralls.

“I hope that backhoe starts. I didn’t plug her in and the weather’s turned cold.”
He stuffed the bills into his desk drawer, told his wife he had to check the cows and wandered into the night. He’d bury the mare before the rest of the family got savvy to what had occurred. He drove through the dark expecting a messy ordeal, then he saw the mound of flesh hugging the ground and approached.

“What the hell?” he barked standing over the kill. “It’s an elk. Those morons shot a cow elk and from the looks of things it was a perfect lung shot. I’ll be dipped!”

Thinking that the meat was still good he proceeded to dress out the elk there on the spot. The cold weather had kept it from going bad right away and the lung shot had insured that the meat wasn’t spoiled by adrenaline and trauma.

“Hell of a shot,” he smiled. “Hell of a shot.”

At dawn he woke up his oldest son who helped him cut up the elk and package it for the freezer. It would feed a lot of people a lot of nights this winter.

“Does this mean we won’t be going hunting, dad?” asked the son on the way to school later that morning.

“What makes you ask a question like that, son,” smiled our friend. “In fact I think we oughta stop by and look at that rifle down at the hardware store. It’s been fired a bit but they might let it go cheap if we flash them some cash, heh?”

“Whatever you say, dad.”

(Editor’s note: The San Juan Horseshoe in no way endorses withholding evidence from the law however until we can safely determine who the responsible parties might be we can tolerate temporary storage of such data. In closing, this paper likewise does not ignore good karma, frontier justice, divine intervention or just dumb luck. In short: We suggest that one never look a gift horse (or elk) in the mouth, a part of the anatomy that should remain shut on a host of occasions.)

Calvicie prematura en elk herd empeora

(Bosque Negro – 26 de octobre de 2015)

Los signos de la calvicie prematura generalizada entre los alces del toro locales ha funcionarios de pesca y caza perplejo y preocupado por el futuro. Según una serie de informes médicos de los animales están perdiendo su pelo a un ritmo alarmante.
Rancheros locales afirman los alces arrojan cada 11 años, una opinión descartado por los guardianes del Estado.

“Hemos visto los alces pierden el pelo antes”, dijo Ernest DelFisher. “He visto todos los curas y todos los tratamientos, pero nada funciona.”

Muchos sienten el problema es cíclico y que se profundiza cada otoño cuando miles de cazadores persiguen en busca de carne. Afortunadamente la enfermedad, lo que sea, no afecta bastidores.

“Creo que el DOW debe iluminar y poner fin a la manipulación, la collareamiento,” continuó DelFisher, “por lo menos hasta que la pérdida de cabello se detiene.”

Fuentes de Denver continúan vigilando los rebaños, dejando caer las tabletas de proteínas y ungüento crecimiento del cabello en los prados y claros favorecidos. Los funcionarios planean separar la calvicie de los animales sanos y estabilizar la situación.
– Elke Winters

Premature Balding in Elk Herds Worsens

(Black Forest — October 26, 2015)

Signs of widespread premature balding among local bull elk has fish and game officials perplexed and worried about the future. According to a series of medical reports the animals are losing their hair at an alarming rate.

Local ranchers claim the elk shed every 11 years, an opinion discarded by the state wardens.

“We’ve seen the elk lose hair before,” said Ernest DelFisher. “I’ve seen all the cures and all the treatments but nothing works.”

Many feel the problem is cyclical and that it deepens every fall when thousands of hunters chase them around looking for meat. Fortunately the malady, whatever it is, does not affect racks.

“I think the DOW should lighten up and cease the tampering, the collaring,” continued DelFisher, “at least until the hair loss stops.”

Sources in Denver continue to monitor the herds, dropping protein tablets and hair growth ointment in favored meadows and clearings. Officials plan to segregate the balding from the healthy animals and stabilize the situation.
– Elke Winters

Vegetarians Who Hunt

(Special from Field and Spleen — October 24, 2015)

This year Western Colorado will see record numbers of vegetarians traveling here to purchase hunting licenses. For some, like Herb Gardener, owner of the Mother Earth Root Salad Patio in Los Angeles, Ca., it was the repetition of the often-heard maxim; Hunting is good for the health and strength of deer and elk herds.

“We live in L.A. so of course we have a lot of guns,” said Herb. “And we really enjoy shooting guns. This seemed like a way to use my arsenal for something positive. Yesterday while I was stalking a buck I could just feel the positively charged ions in the air. It was like the deer were saying, “Thank you Mr. Gardener.”

For others the motivation is different. Skip Townsend, a hunter from San Francisco explains, “Eating meat definitely offends me. When I see people eating burgers I just want to smash their heads because they are so inhumane. I don’t even eat animal crackers. But man, I love hunting. I crave the challenge, the chase, the feel of cold steel and the smell of gunpowder. I want to get a big old bull elk; of course, this year I hired three veterinarians to go with me to doctor any animals I shoot. It’s very expensive but I don’t want to kill any animals, I just want to hunt.”
– Harold Forth

Old Fart Accepted by Webster’s

(Linguistics of London — October 23, 2015)

The term Old Fart will be included in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary and Thesaurus for 2016 according to wordsmiths and language gurus here. The label, which is sometimes considered derogatory, denotes age and, in some cases, attitude. It has nothing to do with aroma or personal hygiene.

“We have added Old Fart to our roster due to colloquial considerations, repeated use within the population, and familiarity,” said Wanda English, a standup editor with the prestigious dictionary concern. “Like it or not, Old Fart has forced its way into our idiomatic legions and is poised to take its rightful place between Old English and old fashioned.”

Although probably incorrect in a political sense, the dimensions of the grammatical reference include abbreviations, synonyms, relevant usage and even Morse code tables.

“Nobody is saying the idiom exemplifies proper or even acceptable language but we are including Old Fart because it is a valid expression in the 21st Century,” said English,

“Virtually everyone knows what it means. Grace and precision are the main considerations in determining our wordy roster and common use dictates the parameters and accessibilities offered to persons of intelligence.”

English was quick to point out that the use of this term in face–to-face encounters in no way offers protection from canes, false teeth bites or other handy weaponry long associated with the elderly.
– Kashmir Horseshoe