A couple of months ago my wife was gathering eggs in the tractor barn (a makeshift shed made of wooden pallets with an old camper shell for a roof where we put the lawnmower and tiller LOL !). She let out a holler sayin' "Bring a gun!!!". I didn't know what I was going to be dealing with, so I grabbed my trench gun and came running. I could see a head about the size of my fist attached to about two feet of scaly cable about the thickness of my forearm. I'd let a big copperhead get away earlier in the same spot because I was afraid of hitting the mower with my .45 but this time I said "to hell with it and blasted the varmint twice. It still slithered away to the other side where I used up my last three 12 gauge shells. When I raked out the remains with a three tined fork, we had two parts of a four foot snake. Taking this as an omen, I sent my wife into town to get a fresh box of #4 shot (duck and pheasant loads). She came back with a box of #8 skeet shot which was all they had in stock.
Two weeks later, I got a chance to see how pitifully inadequate skeet shot is for crawly realities of Jurassic Park. Again my wife was on her way down to the chicken house to lock up the 6 survivors of our flock of 13. Luckily she had a flashlight and saw the tubular shape stretched across the width of the gateway as it worked at swallowing the nest egg beside it. By the time the second shriek came, I was already running out the door trench broom in hand. She held the light as I put the muzzle nearly on the critter and blasted it nearly in half. I say nearly because it slithered like greased lightning into a pile of old fence palings and posts. I gave it another parting shot as its nether end disappeared. We waited several minutes but I could still hear it rustling beneath the pile. Holding the light in one hand and the shotgun in the other, while my wife poked the woodpile with a rake, I finally saw its head. Then I let it have another round at point blank. And another. It was still wiggling when we pulled it out so I vaporized what was left of its head with my last round.
The next morning we stretched it out and measured it. 4 feet 2 inches plus the misted missing head. You could still see the lump of the egg inside the carcass but we didn't want it anymore. I put it out in the dessicated garden for fertilizer or buzzard bait whichever came first. It didn't last long enough to start stinking so I guess it wasn't a total waste of protein.
That wasn't the worst critter we had to deal with that long hot summer. Everything got more desperate, hungrier and harder to kill.
All of the above was inspired by news that Hoss had been bitten by a 7 foot Australian Brown snake and hauled off to Ballarat. Let us know if you're still above ground Down Under, cobber. This post has been edited by Tex Arcana on Nov 8 2011, 04:30 PM