Best , worst or luckiest shot you had ever done

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i was in my back yard in the afternoon with my 22 rifle open sights when a bat came out,flying like a bat does,hit him with the 3rd shot,,,
 
My question would be... why did you feel the need to kill the bat?

Seems kind of senseless to me. :shake:
 
Back about 25 years ago my buddy and I were hunting on his familys ranch for ground squirrels and jackrabbits with our new CVA Mountain rifles. Natually we counldn't hit squat. My buddy wasn't cleaning between shots and got a ball stuck halfway down his barrel and we couldn't get it to go up or down. We decided to call it a day and headed back to the truck. My gun was still loaded and I was looking for a likely target when I almost stepped on a rabbit. He took off behind me and I twisted and fired without really aiming when the bunny was only about 10 feet away. Through the cloud of smoke all I could see was an explosion of fur and blood. That was the first and last game I ever took with that rifle.
 
I was shooting clays with two friends, with a old ML 12 ga double, cut down to about 20". I always took a little good natured flack for using it, as my friends both had autoloaders. I am cross dominant right hand/left eye, always shot long guns off left shoulder. Anyway, I was resting the shotgun on my left shoulder, right hand on the grip, when I noticed a rabbit break cover about twenty yards to my right, crossing in front of me. He headed into cover again, and before I could think, I:
Calculated that he would cross a yard of open space, 20 yds in front of me slightly to the left;
Mentally noted my two amigos were behind me opening a box of clays;
Remembered rabbit season opened the previous week;
Brought the double up and around on my RIGHT shoulder, (never tried that before);
Dropped on the open space, figured rabbit speed and fired.
Found the rabbit a couple of yards into the brush on the left, majority of the shot mass in the head. Could never do that again if I tried for the rest of my life, and never heard another word about my shotgun.
 
When I was about 12 years old I was squirrel hunting in the woods near our southwest Ohio farm. I had just come out of the woods when a game warden came by and checked my licence, looked at my limit of fox squirrels and asked me what I was hunting with. I was carrying a 36 cal. flint rifle and I showed it to him. He pretty much said he didn't believe that I could hit a squirrel with a muzzle loader and said I must have some other weapon with me.
We were standing at the edge of the woods with a grassy field streched out from the woods. Two hundred yards accrossed the field was a fence row with a tall tree and beyond the fence row was a field of corn. In the top of the tree was a sentinal crow watching over the flock that was feeding in the corn field.
I told the game warden to watch that crow in the top of the tree and I raised the flint rifle and fired. The crow saw the puff of smoke and took off from the branch. He flapped his wings and rose about four feet above the branch and then glided down sounding a warning to the crows in the field. That's when his luck ran out because he flew right into the path of the round ball. As the feathers settled toward the ground I calmly loaded my rifle and asked the game warden if he had any more questions. He walked away shaking his head. I still have a feather from that crow which I kept as a souvenier.

Freedom isn't free

Doug in Virginia
 
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