48 turkeys wandering around in the yard yesterday afternoon. Ruth doesn't like 'em crapping all over the place, so I get up from my bench, run out and start popping away at them with - A BERETTA .25 AUTO!!

No, we ain't having turkey for Sunday dinner.

But even then a 25 auto would not have been my first choice...

... it might have gotten angry with you.

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Of the Troops & For the Troops

was also the first one my father ever shot at. It was also with a .25 auto.

We were going up the dirt road to the cabin and two ran across the road in front of the car. My dad jammed on the brakes and jumped out after them. He told he to drive the car up the road a little and pull over. (I was like 11 maybe? lol)
He took off into the woods after them and I drove, scared to death up the curvy narrow road with the deep gullies on both sides. Scared to "pull to the side" and scared to stay in the middle, I drove up to where the road was wider… in front of the cabin. A short time later I heard a shot. Quite a while after that my dad showed up, well out of breath from his walk up the mountain. "Where the hell'd you go!? Why'd you come all the way up here!!? I told you to just go up a little!" (lesson here being, kids that don't know how to drive don't follow driving instructions well.) I asked "Did you get him?" He replied "AI can't hit crap with this stupid thing!"
I think the next turkey he shot was several years later…. with the .222 That one wasn't exactly legal either. ;)

Well, truth be told, I wasn't really trying to hit one. Good thing, because I also missed the stump I WAS aiming at. 40 yards is a bit long for a .25.

I did convince them to vacate the yard, though, which was the object. I like having them around, just don't like steppin' in turkey poo.

Time to get another big dog.

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Of the Troops & For the Troops