CAT 20-Jan-98 The Hillbilly 20-Jan-98 The Authors 20-Jan-98 The Hillbilly 20-Jan-98 WAL-MART 20-Jan-98 CAT 20-Jan-98 Stinky 20-Jan-98 Troy Green 20-Jan-98 Cam 20-Jan-98 Cujeaux 20-Jan-98 Cam 20-Jan-98 CAT 21-Jan-98 CAT (is a pig, is a Bowhunter, etc) 21-Jan-98 HOGMASTERS 21-Jan-98 CAT 21-Jan-98 TennBow (aka The HillBilly) 21-Jan-98 TennBow 22-Jan-98 Anheuser Busch 22-Jan-98 CAT 22-Jan-98 Sticker 22-Jan-98 Hickory Hatchet Company 23-Jan-98 All Temp Thermometers 23-Jan-98 Red Bone Kennels 23-Jan-98 TennBow 23-Jan-98 CAT 23-Jan-98 Cujeaux 23-Jan-98 Joshua 23-Jan-98 Rupe 23-Jan-98 TennBow 23-Jan-98 Troy Green 24-Jan-98 Cam from Texas 24-Jan-98 Tennbow 24-Jan-98 TennBow 24-Jan-98 Troy Green 24-Jan-98 Tennbow 24-Jan-98 Sticker 24-Jan-98 Rupe 24-Jan-98 TennBow 25-Jan-98 Scoop 25-Jan-98 Hambone 25-Jan-98 Cujeaux 25-Jan-98 Troy Green 25-Jan-98
Well, as some of you may know, the Great State of Texas was invaded this past weekend by a couple of out of state "hunters"-a hillbilly from Tennessee showed up in Red River County, and a Transplanted Cajun from "Arkinsaw" (is there a worse combination?) ended up in Nacogdoches. Luckily, they never got together, who knows how they would have left the state when they left. We have yet to hear about the woes of the hillbilly's guide, but here is how it went down in the Piney Woods:
The Professional Idiot Guide (hereafter referred to as "PIG"), met his charge (hereafter referred to as "Lucky") in the booming metropolis known as Nacogdoches, Texas late Friday evening. After securing some much needed provisions (AKA Beer) for the hunt, they left the city for the wilds of the Piney Woods.
Upon arrival at Lowlife Lodge, Lucky was really taken aback by the accomodations. "Sumbich!", he exclaimed. "Look at dis place. Dis is VERY betts dan my shack in Arkinsaw. You gots alla comforts a man needs hea-a stove, almost runnin' wata, an' a roof dat don't leak much! Alla you need now is a cuzzin o'mine for cookin', an' washin', an' keepin warm at night!"
PIG shook his head in defeat, "Why can't I meet a REAL hunter sometime?" he said to himself. "Why do I always end up with the yahoos? What did I do to deserve this? God, I hope I make it back alive...I thought you had to go TO Arkansas to end up hamburger, no, I've got "Deliverance II" about to happen right here in Texas."
They unpacked the trucks. Lucky proudly showed PIG his "bow". It looked like the riser may have been a boat anchor at some point, the limbs resembled bicycle handlebars, and the wheels definitely came from a couple of old Singer sewing machines. "Yessir, I won dis hea bow in a "Big Buck Contest" a coupla yeas ago. My 3 point non-typical teen class buck wasa de pride o' da county dat year. Nobody even came close to it."
Just in case, Lucky also brought his trusty meatpole. "Dis hea's my daddy's gun. He sez take it, so's I don't go home empty handed."
After a few rounds, the two newly made "friends" hit the racks. Fortunately, Lucky made such a racket snoring that PIG didn't have to use the customary toothpick to prop one of his eyes open. The alarm clock couldn't ring soon enough.
BRRRNNNGGG! "Wha?!?! WHO DAT? Emilene, Shut that racket off or I'll...OH! I's forgot. We goin hog huntin' dis mornin'. Hey PIG, whar's da moonshine, I mean mouthwash?"
PIG rolled over, hoping that he was just in the middle of a nightmare. But no, reality was that he was stuck with the Cajun/Arkinsawyer for 2 more days...
(More to Come)
Yep CAT sounds like my trek to the North East Part of that great state.
Whilst standin at the baggage claim at the DFW an holdin proud my camo day pack, a sludge soundin voice says, "Dat's a nice pack ya got dare, boy."
To which I replied, "Them dumb**s's LOST my new bow!, AND all o my huntin clothes!" Hey, how'r you, Sticker?
After much studyin on it, we hit on a plan. The Airline would deliver my stuff on up toward the huntin place iff'n we called em and give em an address. So we head out in dat boy's pristine clean white Toyota 4x4. Bein prepared for the trip I had instructed da boy to have some col Bud in da truck so's I'd be able to take in the country side in style. Sho nuff, round dark we come into the sprawling metropolis of Clarksville, TX and yessir right there next to the Tasty Freeze stood the A-OK Motel (I am NOT makin this up!). We stagger on in an ax da woman whut could we use her Motel as a bag drop. I guess our charm and good looks convinced her that we was not gubment men what was gonna ax for green cards so she says, "Uhhhh, yeah."
Den we headed out to the luxury accomodations that them boys calls "The BifHouse," Man dis place has it all. Runnin Water (out of a big barrell catchin rainwater), Hot shower (Heated water in a bucket with a spigot on it on a shelf) place had carpet on the dirt and even a custom winder cut out of the wall with a chain saw. Man what livin!
So we grill us up some steaks and fries us up some taters and build us a far to keep the chill of the night off us so we can sit around and lie to each other like we been knowin each other for years. After a pleasant evenin of lyin and a couple shots of cheap whiskey we hit da hay.
Now I'm gonna tell ya straight on this one boys.
more later
REGO
...And now a word from our sponsors...
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That's right folks. If you REALLY want the best hog hunting Texas has to offer, call P.I.G. Outfitters at 1-888-Hog-Hunt, or was it Hunt-Hog?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>For the sake
of continuity, please refer all comments to the "Cajun Comments" Thread.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
And now back to out stories...
Yep, like I tol you boys, I's gonna tell this story straight.
So the next mornin (actually it was still as dark as Rupert's heart outside) the thermometer reads a blistering 24 degrees when Hogsticker n me stick our noses out of the rack an he reaches over and sticks the coffee pot on da stove.
So we call da A-OK Motel (I am NOT making this up) and sho nuff, they got my huntin stuff. The woman was so happy and glad to be woke up at 4:45am to hand off some huntin stuff, she actually opened up some of the bars on the window to talk to us. Then we head back to the huntin place to slay some game.
Now jus down the road from The Bighouse the road gets better, kinda like a bunch of confused ruts filled with mid about knee deep tryin to figur out a way to get that truck to bottom out. It was a damn good thing that it was still dark out so I couldn't actually see what we was headed towards. Bout 1/2 mile we we spot some eyes glarin back at us and a grey fox runs off to tell everybody we was comin.
Now since my huntin stuff hadn't been there the evenin before, I bought me a pair of them cheap Wal-Mart huntin boots when I bought me that Texas license and heck I figgur'd to go on an wear em. I mean they cost ever bit of 28.00 whole dollars.
more after these messages....
Subject: RE: The Tale of the Lucky Cajun
From: WAL-MART
Date: 20-Jan-98
Warning: Our cheap huntin boots are rated down to -10 degrees. They have actually been down to that temperature (honest). However we do not recommend that you actually have your feet in them when it gets that damn cold.
Sam
...Well PIG finally decided he ought to get up and take the next 20 hours of his whipping...
PIG was out of coffee. "Damn! I hate it when that happens! Sorry about that Lucky! Let's get dressed and see if the guys at the other camp have any." To which Lucky replied, "Got Milk?"
Now the weather in Texas is amazing, you don't like it wait a minute, it'll change. At 5 AM that morning it was in the low 30's, so they bundled up in longhandles, etc. By noon, they were in T-Shirts, working on a good beer sweat...
Off they went to the other camp. Little did they know that, although there was only one guy that was actually a lease member in camp, he brought FOUR of his best buddies along...
Turns out they DID have coffee, which was the ONLY good part of the conversation that morning:
PIG: "Where you gonna put all these guys?"
HOG (Hag-toothed Other Guide): "I dunno? Whar ya'll goin'?"
PIG: "Thought we'd go to the Bott"
HOG: "Nope, that's where I'M goin'"
CAT: "ems..."
It didn't get any better, so PIG trucked Lucky off and dropped him at a location that had recently suffered some serious hog (not HOG) damage. A Roto-tiller couldn't have done a better job on those five acres.
"Good Googly Moogly!" cried Lucky upon arriving at the scene. "I ain't never in all my life seen rootin' like dis! I's betta get in a tree quick-like, 'fore they catches me down hea!" With that, he shinnied up a tree like the coon-ass he is and waited with his "bow". All was quiet...
(More to Come)
This is my first visit ever to the hog hunting site, Hillbilly. I came just for your hunt synopsis. Let's get on with it with no more commercial interruptions.
Stinky (but a rose compared to hog guts)
ROTFLMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Did any of these ventures take yall through a little town called Alto?
Mai, when you boyz gonna get to da hog killin?
Just curious if Hogsticker really showed his Cajun colors by wearing the "Cajun Reeboks"?? What most people outside of Louisiana refer to as white rubber boots.
ALRIGHT!!! A very good program and I also enjoy the commercials. What else can a person ask for?
More...Encore, Encore!!
Cam
Wow! The story is longer than the hunt. Got to go put some more ice on the meat while CAM finishes his novel.
"Lucky" my sweet patootie!
Cujeaux, I just the person setting next to you in this theater, the players are Sticker and Tennbow. Now pass the Popcorn and Lonestars.
Cam
WE INTERRUPT THIS TELECAST FOR AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!!!
Let's go back and review....
In the first post on this thread it was stated that TWO SEPARATE hunting trips were taken to Texas:
1) Tennbow went to hunt with Sticker.
2) Cujeaux went to hunt with CAT
What we have here is TWO SEPARATE, albeit concurrent, narratives.
(although, when you think about it, it is pretty funny to think of them as two sides to the same story...HMMM...That could have some potential. Sticker? Cujeaux? Are you up for that???)
CAT
And now back to our regularly scheduled programming...
...when all of the sudden the peace of predawn darkness is shattered by the sounds of Four-Wheelers without mufflers! Yes, it seems that the HOG bunch was churning up the whole lease with the tire track leaving obnoxiously loud noisemakers.
Needless to say ol' Lucky didn't feel so lucky that morning. After sitting three hours in his tree and missing the only squirrel he saw, he shimmied back down and met PIG at the road.
PIG: "Where is he?"
Lucky: "I guess he got runned ova by a fo-whiller, cuz a ain't seen nuthin' but tar tracks."
PIG: "Maybe we need to go "HOG" huntin..."
Lucky: "Has you eva tried to skin a fo' whiller? I's heard they's pretty tough."
And so they loaded up and headed back to Lowlife Lodge for some midday refreshments (guess).
(More to Come)
HOWDY, YA'LL!
By now, you've no doubt heard of an organization of a similar name that is dedicated to presenting you the noble pastime of deer hunting.
We at HOGMASTERS hope to bring you some of the more asinine adventures of a bunch of nimrods out in the woods supposedly in search of the elusive wild hog.
We're not nearly as stuffy as our counterparts and hope you enjoy the (mis)adventures of our "crack staff of experts".
So enjoy the ride and remember: I'm not just the president, I'm also a member, in fact I liked it so much I bought the company and told two friend and they told two friends..."
Our story so far:
PIG and Lucky met in Nacogdoches Friday night and drive to Lowlife Lodge. Get up in the morning, meet other hunters, have a bad morning hunt and go back to the Lodge.
In the interest of the viewers' interest, here's a brief rundown of the rest of the day's events:
Saturday's evening hunt was just as noisy and fruitless as the morning hunt had been. Four wheelers running everywhere. Our heroes' patience began to run thin, but there was not much to do about it. All the hogs on the lease had left to escape the pressure...
Saturday evening at Lowlife Lodge:
PIG: "Let's fire up the gas grill and marinate those ribs and we'll eat in about an hour."
Lucky: "I still say (burp!) we otta have one o' my cuzzins here for all dat! (burp!) Only cookin' I's know how to do is openin' anotha one o' dese bea cans! (Pop!SSS!)
PIG: "Well, I guess I'll have to make due without your cousin. (Burp!) Cook me one of those would 'ja? Looks like the grill's about ready."
With that the flame promptly dies out.
Lucky: "Looks like yore outta gas, Budreaux!!! HA! HA! HA! (Burp!) I's neva have dat problem!" (flatulates) "SEE THAR?!?!"
Sure enough, the gas grill was no longer an option. Option two was the old Weber smoker.
An hour and a half later (9:30 CST) they finally eat some tasty but late night ribs and enjoy a fine 1997 twelve pack of Busch with their repast. They hit the racks about midnight, fatter, dumber, and happier than ever...
(More to Come)
So here I is up in the stand that first mornin. Revelin in the marvelous of my toes startin to turn blue (keep in mind, I'm prob'ly 300 NORT of CAT)
The mornin turns slow with no show of game, and all that beer that got drunk up last evenin is startin to talk to my bladder. Long bout grey light, I hear a rustlin over off toward the slough behind the stand. Beer and Bladder shut up damn quick. Toes start to actually hurt which I considered a very good sign.
Meanwhile I start hearing the most GodAwful screechin comin from off toward the rut they call the road. I'm still strainin to hear over the caw-caw's of Texas's state bird (the damnable crow). Now the rustlin i heared earlier has died out and my bladder decides it's his turn to talk again, and he aint happy.
more later (this is a long distance call)
REGO
So I do the only thing an ethical hunter CAN do. I crawl down out of the stand and as I hit the ground, my toes decide it's time for them to take over the situation. In other words, they tell me to "FALL DOWN NOW!"
Bein atuned to my body, I obey. Bladder gets pissed off at the toes and make them get up and head off toward the road to answer.
(How's your hunt going about now CAT?)
REGO aka Hillbilly
We encourage all outdoorsmen to enjoy our products reponsibly.
We mean for you to enjoy your time in the woods, so please limit your evenin's enjoyment to one 12pack each.
Adolphus
Sunday Morning in a nutshell---PIG shot a doe (rifle), as it was the last day of teh extended doe season on the lease. Lucky didn't see squat! Damn those four wheelers!
"Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of "The Lucky Cajun"
Translation: OKAY! NOW TO THE GOOD PART THAT EVERY ONE'S BEEN WAITING FOR!!!
After dressing out and quartering the doe, our two heroes checked on the other hunting camp. Thankfully, it was deserted. No more four wheelers. In fact, they were the only two left on the whole 5,000 acres.
They decided that maybe, just maybe the hogs may ahve noticed the lack of noise and come back. Of course there was a lot more room to manuever in since the HOG BUNCH had vacated the area.
(((The rest of the story is EXACTLY what happened, except perhaps a few liberties taken in the dialogue, I'll swear on anything you want.)))
Driving down a logging road:
PIG: "WHOA!!! THERE THEY GO! THERE THEY GO!!! SEE 'EM!?!? STOP THE FREAKIN' TRUCK!!!"
LUCKY: "WHA?!? GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY!!! HOLD ON!!!"
The truck skids to a halt, the two hunters bail out and grab their rifles. Meanwhile the two hogs, one about 250# the other maybe 150# have "left the building". They disappeared into a creek bottom.
Lucky: "Whar'd they go?"
PIG: "Well, we aren't exactly the Welcome Wagon Committee, you know. What did you expect?"
Lucky: "Let's go git 'em. I ain'ta leavin' til I's got one."
PIG: "I have a cunning plan. You follow em that way, and I'll try to head them off down the creek this way..."
Of course, the plan was doomed from its inception. The Cajun ended up exactly 120 degrees from where he was supposed to be within 5 minutes. Right where PIG was just beginning his manuever.
PIG: "I thought I told you to go THAT way!!! What the hell are you doing here?!?!"
Lucky: "Well I's kepp smellin' sumpin' stinky and follered ma nose! Matta o' fact, I's still smell it."
PIG: "Well if i had done the same thing I'da ended up right behind you. You smell worse right now than any hog I've ever skinned!"
About that time they heard a dog barking in the distance...
Lucky: "Is it jes me or isat dawg gittin' closa?"
PIG: "That dog IS gettin' closer. AND IT'S CHASING SOMETHING---gotta be a hog or a deer!"
Lucky: "You din't tell me you hadda hawg dawg. Why's we bin not huntin' it? Les go find 'im!"
(The baying was getting progressively louder...)
PIG: "NO one out here has a hog dog! If that's somebody's dog, it's a trespasser's! There's no leasers out here but you and me!"
A light bulb flashes on (dimly) over Lucky's head.
Lucky: "Den dat means we can shoot de hawg!" He was very proud of himself.
PIG: "EXACTLY!"
Lucky: "Well less go den! Whatta we's waitin' fo'?"
PIG (the prophet): "He's headed right HERE! Just a minute and he'll come over that rise! Get ready, cause you're doin the shootin'!"
Magically, it happened just as PIG predicted. A large, low, round, blach shape followed by a taller red shape topped the rise sixty yard away. Their course was taking them right, and I mean right, at PIG. Both guys' jaws drop in utter amazement. Their eyes never leave the hog. Of course, PIG's are a little wider than Lucky's.
PIG: "I'll be damned! Here they come! Go ahead and hit him!"
The 125# hog and red bone hound were getting closer, and CLOSER>>>
PIG: "ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT HIM!?!?"
Lucky: SILENCE
PIG: "ANY TIME NOW!!!"
At this point PIG begins to mount his own rifle. The Hog is about 15 yards away...On ramming course and at ramming speed...
BOOOOM! The pork torpedo drops in its tracks exactly nin steps from PIG. The dog is nowhere to be found.
Come to think of it, maybe we should have titled this the "Lucky TEXAN"...
Anyway, the hunt ended up a resounding success. They laughed so hard and so long they almost busted their own guts along witht he hog's.
Maybe there'll be a sequel...
Sorry I'm late, Boys....just gittin'in. Anybody seen TennBow? That bastard stole my truck and left me in the woods to die like a hog. Took my good boots too. Left me with these thin cheap WalMart brand.
I'm not sure how many lies he done told up ta now, but here's a couple a truths ya gotta know:
Hatchet-Throwing Exhibition - Right after dinner on Friday night, I was relaxin in my chair honin' my broadheads and heard some kinda mumbling coming from my new student (by this time, I've been wit da boy for 5 or 6 hours and ain't payin' no attention to what he's sayin). I hear somethin about how all Tennesseeans are good hatchet throwers and he asks if I want him to show me how he can stick my hatcher (with the brand new handle) in the Big Hickory in the moddle of our camp.
By the time my mind processed what de boy was sayin', I looked up just in time to see him rarin-back to chunck da hatchet at da tree. I followed da flight path of the hatchet as it tumbled toward the tree. Well, we never intended for this tree to be a hatchet target...in fact, it was much more suitable as the thermometer holder we were using it for. Turns-out there won't be any need for any thermometer holders any more, cause we ain't got no thermometer...at least not one still in one piece. How he managed to hit such a small target on such a big tree is a testimony to his hatchet-throwing skill.
And ya know, after he apologized for bustin' up our thermometer, he musta thrown 5 or 6 more times, and NEVER COULD get that handle to stick in da tree.
More Later, Sticker
Our throwing hatchets are designed to take abuse, but this is rediculous. The pointy end you idgets!!
HHC
Please do not expect us to replace this thermometer with our lifetime guarantee. We do not replace thermimeters die to personal negligence (such as allowing a hatchet throwing Volunteer into camp).
ATT
Reward for missing Red Bone Hound. Last seen chasing hogs in East TX.
Yep, Sticker admarred my hatchet throwin skills so much he got out his pistol an started wavin it around mutterin somethin about "That was my thermometer, you redneck!"
So, back in the bigwoods I'm slowly making my way to the rut-track an finally break through and let fly addin about a quart of liquid to the mud. Well, WHAR's the truck?!
Sticker had done left ME in da woods!? I spied a white flutter bout 100 yds up the road and da note says, "Went to get corn, back soon" So I do me some scoutin to find me a better evenin huntin spot.
REGO
All kidding aside, Chris and I had a great time. The part about the crowded lease and four wheeler conditions not withstanding. Typing this a week later makes me wish we were doing it all again this weekend.
The absolute luck of being in the exactly right spot at exactly the right time to catch that hog coming through was amazing. Had I been by myself it never would have happened. We laughed and laughed and laughed some more. Sure it would have been even sweeter if we had had our bows at the time, but it'll always be one of the best hunting stories I'll ever tell.
Next time I'll make sure check with my lease mates before I take somebody hog hunting. Had they not been there, I'm sure we would have taken a couple of hogs through more legitimate, standard means. Gonna schedule one for the last part of February...any takers???
CAT
CAT, I live just south of Huntington in Angelina County. I'd love to do some hog hunting up with you. Where we live is a little higher in elevation and the hogs don't come up this way very often - they stay closer down to the Neches River bottom. E-Mail me with details, if you would. What club are you a member of? joshua@huntinfo.com
Sticker, did Tennbow "impress" you with his sleep walking or talking in his sleep skills??? Boy did need some schoolin didn't he???
Ha! Schoolin hell!
---So after I scouted out a good spot I hear that little wind-up truck comin back up the rut. (In all fairness that Toyota went through stuff that made my a** pucker up!)
So we load up in it an head back to the bighouse bout midday. Folks, this was the most beautiful day in January I have spent outside Costa Rica. Warm sun, cool breeze, good company and good talk about what we're gonna kill that evening.
Sticker decides the lessons are getting too much for his feeble mind and pulls out a cot to lay in the shade and take him a snooze.
TennBow says OK and walks up an down the rut looking for what sign he can see that would indicate where the heck the game was. As usual, he found it.
the game was asleep, snorin about as loud as Sticker was in The Bighouse. (too hot in the sun, too cold in the shade or so he said).
So the moral to this story boys is that when somebody offers you a boar hog hunt, you take it. Period.
If they're from the Bowsite, they probably know where to kill hogs and all they will offer is a chance. Hell, even that yahoo Cajun got a shot from somebody elses' hog dog.
Me and Sticker didn't kill nothin but time. But that was the best time, when it was field dressed, that any two stranger hunters could have intered into the record books. We are talkin P&Y here.
REGO
Now which one of you pissant Texas hunters want to come up in Sopt to
hunt Tennessee Hogs?
TennBow,
Pick the date!
Well, Howdy little Padner. Did you ever get them Hosses all healed up ther boy? Being a flatlander, I would shor preciate a sturdy mount to run them hills and hollers and we could tote in more refreshments for lying around the campfar.
Yor friend Cam from Armadillo (just between Decatur and Huntsville, Texas).
Yep, hosses is all healed up. I'm thinkin' of takin em next year sos THEY can do the draggin!
REGO
Usually around the third week of Sept there is a special boar/doe hunt. Bow only. First crack at big game in the state every year.
REGO
Firm up a date and the Ultimate Hunting Vehicle (aka "the Beast") will put its nose to the North and pick passengers up on the way!
Troy, won't know for sure till the 98 regs come out in March. Pretty sure bet on the 20-28 Sept. time frame.
Otherwise, I could set up a trip to Caryonah for $400.00 each if ya'll wanna come. I'm gonna do that myself this spring after the travel season is over with and before everything greens out.
This place is PERFECT, they even have a little sittin room with a fireplace called THE LIARS ROOM! Can't get much better than that.
REGO
Yep, Rupe, kept me up all night with it....moanin', groanin', talkin' trash....you know, kinda like when he's awake. I just figured he was practicin' for the next day.
He didn't try to make any Tennessee Gravy when he was with you, did he? Let's just say the fried venison and turkey breast we had on Saturday night was good EVEN WITHOUT any gravy.....huh, TennBow.
Sticker
BTW, How did that Backstrap turn out the other night?
ROTFLMAO. What backstrap?????
It was great, Sticker.
Lauren axed me why didn't I cook it like this all the time. Andy called it Deer McNuggets. And the gravy turned out good this time (funny hows you kin cook it on ye own stove, but not somebody elses, aint it?)
Rupert, go kill some does.
REGO
I just saw this story on the CNN Website. Thought ya'll might be interested.
Hound Loses Lifetime Companion
AP Wire Report...Nacogdoches, TX. The search was called off this weekend for Hambone, a pet Spanish Pig owned by Rastus Dirtfarmer of Nacogdoches, TX, after a fruitless weeklong search involving hundreds of volunteers. But Rastus isn't the only one who'll be missing Hambones playful nature.
It seems that Hambone and another one of Rastus' pets, a RedBone Hound named BoBo, were inseperable companions up until last Sunday, when BoBo same home from their daily scamp alone. "I jus' don' know what ta thank..." says Rastus. "BoBo neva come home wit-out Hambone befo. Afterall, Hambone an' BoBo was raised togetha." It seems BoBo's mother was runover by a backhoe when BoBo was just a pup, and Hambone's mother adopted BoBo as one of her own. The two have been inseperable ever since.
"BoBo was pretty toe-up ova da whole thang. Won't eat. Won't sleep, jus' howls at da moon waitin' on Hambone to come runnin' like he always do," says Dirtfarmer. "But dis time, he nva some. If'n he don't get over it pretty quick, I'm gonna have ta shoot him".
Anyone with information on the whereabouts of Hambone the Pet Pig should contact the Nacogdoches Police Department immediately.
Would you'uns go hed'n tell BoBo dat I's allrite?
Seems I's enjoyin da stewpot ova heaah in Awwwkinsaww. I sho did wants me a stewpot up dare in Tennessee do.
Somebody let me know if they put BoBo out of his misery. Cuz if he's been on the same diet, it might be safe to say he'll taste similar to Hambone. That being the case, I may drive down there to pick his dead butt up.
Really ROTFLMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
A follow-up to yesterday's story....
Canine Mercy Killing Rocks Small Texas Town
Reuters News Agency, Nacodoches, TX. BoBo The RedBone Hound will be laid to est tomorrow following the shotgun mercy killing by the pooch's owner, Rastus Dirtfarmer of Nacogdoches, TX. Many of you may recall thestory that broke over the weekend involving the failed attempts to locate the dog's lifelong companion, HamBone, a pet Spanish pig who was more like BoBo's brother than just his friend. HamBone disappeared suddenly last Sunday after the two left for their daily romp around the East Texas countryside....something the two have done together every day for the last 12 years.
"I jus' couldn't takes de howlin' no mo," says Dirtfarmer. "He been doin' it fo ova a week....owlin' and hopin', hopin and howlin'....I did it to put me outta my own misery, as well as his. I even tried to brang on anotha pig, but BoBo wouldn't have none of it. So I blasted him".
BoBo will be laid to rest at Gunbarrel Cemetary tomorrow afternoon at 2:00 pm.A candle-light vigile for Hambone will follow at dusk. Those who can are encouraged to attend.
Stick...., ah, I mean, Scoop.
Is a candle light vigile followed by a BBQ reception?
Cam
They're one and the same!
"Scoop", I knew I could count on your contributions to this mess! Give Rastus our recipe er....I mean condolences.
CAT
Youz a sharp'un, CAT. I never said the "candlelight" wouldn't be comin' from a hickory pit, did I.
"....something the two have done together every day for the LAST 12
YEARS...".
"....Magically, it happened just as PIG predicted...". Hmmm.
Sounds to me like you had 'em patterned.
Sticker
Please send my regrets to Rastus and family. Oh yeah, send my condolences and LOTS of dem dare Rolaids to any damn fool whut eats 12 year ol hawg!