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Huntin with Joe


It's Sunday, and once again Tater's washin all that blood out the coveralls and carpets. That on the wall can get painted over, but it'll be a spell before ol Tater can get to it.


Speakin of blood, weren't near enough yesterday. Went squirrel huntin with ol Joe, but his idea of huntin is to drive up and down till we spot a squirrel then jump out of the truck and chase after it, shootin all the way and yellin "Kill that rascal, Tater" on account of Tater had the rifle and Joe only had his pistol, which he can't hit nothin with, leastwise nothin that's movin. Needless to say, didn't bag much in the way of squirrel that way.  

 
Now, it was a good thing Joe was wearin his pistol, on account of a couple of rough fellers from Coogan's Holler come along and objected to Joe parkin right in the middle of the road. Joe was yellin kill em Tater and Tater was out runnin through the woods after three fat ones and them boys come along, started givin Joe a hard time, askin where he from and what he was doin round there. Well, by the time Tater come back and Joe was none too happy. Joe was pretty sure them boys was on the methedrine and might could be cookin nearby, and says they was a lookin at the shotgun in the rack like they was about to grab it. But Joe has his holster wore around the outside his jacket, and them boys knew he was serious when he unsnapped the flap, so they hightailed it outa there. Pistol like  that with the .38 hollow points makes a good hole.


And that weren't the all of it neither. Later when we was settin under a tree eatin jerky and drinkin beer and swattin at Mexican wasps that was all over everything, wishin we'd a been better shots, when a big fat squirrel come down a tree right next to the road. Well, sir, Tater grabbed the rifle and took aim, and just as he drew a bead on it a truck come by, and wouldn't you know it, it was them Coogan's Holler boys. Well, they saw Tater aimin about winder height as they was passin that tree, and they didn't know he was aimin at that squirrel and not them, and tell you what, they stepped on that gas and was up the road lickety split. But when they kicked up that gravel, it spooked the squirrel and he was up in the treetops and off before Tater could get back to him.


Joe thought that was real funny, and was laughin and slappin his knee and yellin, "Kill em Tater!" but now he was talkin about them Coogan's Holler boys. Then Joe reached down and grabbed his beer and took a big swig, but they was a wasp got down in the neck of it, and Joe drunk him right along with the beer. Wouldn't you know it, that wasp stung Joe right there on the uvula, you know, the little hangy down part in the back? Well, Joe he spits out the beer and commences to yell "What the hell?!?!" and after a minute or so we figured out it was a wasp and all, and what happened there.


That was enough for the day. No squirrels for Joe and Tater. But Tater got him an appreciation of the value of always carryin a firearm in plain sight when you're out there in the woods, and Joe learnt to check the bottle for wasps, or at least drink the whole thing once you open it. On the way home Joe started in to coughin, and when he was done he turns to Tater and says "You know what? I almost passed out there". Tater tell you Joe was drivin? Well, he was, and even though Tater offered to drive, Joe promised he wouldn't pass out no more, so we carried on.

 
Woulda been nice to get a squirrel. But it's nice to be alive, and Tater's just as happy that way as the other.