A few of my buddies on here have asked me about my handle. I'll have to take the long way around to get to it. Since the hunting stories have slowed down, and my good buddy Gum Slough Muzzleloader asked just last week, I'll fill you guys in on it, from one feral Illinois kid to another, her ya are Fred:
A key person in this story is my cousin, my Ma's sisters youngest son. We'll just call him Dip $#it (DS). Me and ol' DS are a month apart in age, me July, him August. I'm being kind when I say DS isn't too bright. One fine August day, we were coming out of some woods with a load of squirrels, we had a good morning. DS spotted a hornets nest about the size of a Volkswagen Bug hanging from a branch. I see what he's looking at, and I said "no, don't do it". Well he did. He sent a 22 round through that nest. I had already started running as he was raising his rifle, I still got stung twice, and I was pretty fast back then. He got stung 5 or 6 times. And to ad insult to injury, after we ran the 3/4 of a mile back to my grandma's house, I gave him 2 to the ribs and one to the jaw. I was the one that got in trouble because the adults only saw me giving him my George Foreman impression. When DS told the story, I was vindicated and his dad gave him a good one. And took his rifle from him for being reckless with it. That hurt him more than the beating.
Fast forward to the following summer. We were about to turn 15. We had permission to fish an old farm pond on an inactive home place. There were bluegill in there as big as catchers mits. It was pretty overgrown so we were moving through the cabbage single file, with me in the front. DS was about 5 feet behind me when I heard his Buck 110 open, then I felt a red hot finishing nail sink into the back of my left leg, about 5 inches below my calf. A three ft Copperhead popped me because DS hucked his knife at it instead of just warning me. Best we could figure, I was already passed it when he tried to stick it, but since I was closer, I paid for it.
The Dr. Said it wasn't a dry bite, but I didn't get a full dose of venom either. I sat in the hospital far a week being monitored, and given IV fluids because I couldn't keep any food down. My lower leg swoll up the size of an elephant. The Dr. told my parents that if the fever went past my knee, they would give me the antivenom stuff. Lucky for me, it didn't. A week in the hospital, and a week at home laying there doing nothing. When my parents came to spring me, my old man came in and said "there's ol Snakebit, ready to go"? My ma was pretty mad at him for that one. As for DS, I wish I could tell you guys that was the last outdoors outing we had where he did something stupid and I paid for it, cause it wasn't. But I'll save that one for another time.
but I saw this squirrel a little bit ago. His tail is blondish. I don’t know where he came from. I’ve not seen him before. I thought it looked neat.
- he probably wishes we'd shut up.
Ed's not faint of heart whatsoever. Probably good to be in everyone's mind this time of year. Here in PA, squirrel season used to open in midish October. Few years ago, it switched to September. I pay just as much attention to the ground as I do the nut trees because it's still warm out.
