Moose and Squirrel

Moose and Squirrel

The following story is about the three managing partners in Dewey, Cheetum & Howe.  This is the company that manages Ocho as he strives for excellence in golf.  The partners are known for their globe trotting hi-jinks and this one is an Alaskan moose hunt.  Hope you enjoy it.

MOOSE AND SQUIRREL

          The globetrotting, golfing, and heavy drinking trio have discovered a new passion, big game hunting.  So we find our imbibing heroes in Alaska on a guided moose hunt on the Katmai Peninsula.  Everyone in the group is armed to the teeth with the latest in modern big game hunting weaponry with the emphasis on being able to stop an angry grizzly.  The exception to this show of massive firepower is Sam.  He loves the lore of the mountain men and how they survived the wilds with their wits and a 50 caliber Hawken.  Men like Daniel Boone, Kit Carson, Jim Bridger and Jeremiah Johnson carried this gun so it was good enough for Sam. 

‘Sam!’, argued Clyde, ‘You are a stubborn, mule-headed, crossways sonofabitch.’

          ‘Those were the exact words of my third ex-wife at the divorce hearing.’ replied Sam, “Besides, I don’t know what the fuss is about.  My gun has enough stopping power, as much as yours in fact.’

          ‘That’s not the concern.’ countered Vinny, ‘the concern is your ability to shoot the damn thing.’

          And so the argument went all through the daily tramps through the meadows and forests in their search for moose.  Sam stuck to his guns, so to speak, and carried that Hawken every day, locked and loaded and ready to destroy any poor beast that got in his way.  As the days dragged on with only one shot at a moose, a miss by Vinny, the drinking became steadily heavier.  Finally, toward the end of the fifth day they stumbled upon a large bull moose grazing in the meadow.  Miraculously, the moose was unaware of the less than covert approach being made by 3 drunken fools and 2 bewildered guides.

          As furtively as possible, Clyde rose up to take a shot.    At the same moment, Sam saw some movement in the brush to their rear.  Spying a patch of brown-grizzled fur through the underbrush, Sam fired his ever ready Hawken 50 caliber screaming, “I got me a bear!”  Not very well braced and more than slightly drunk, Sam was thrown backwards by the kick from the 50 caliber Hawken and plowed into Clyde.  Clyde, tangled now with Sam, stepped into a varmint hole twisting his ankle and sending him sprawling to the turf as he was pulling the trigger on the moose.  The shot went wild ricocheting off of a boulder barely missing the now aware moose. The butt of his rifle struck Vinny in the Schlitz can he was guzzling from sending beer everywhere and knocking loose two teeth.  The two bewildered guides were shouting in tandem, “Shoot the moose!” but alas, the moose decided to head for a quieter corner of the meadow and was soon out of range.  At long last the three hunters recovered enough from their various new injuries to inspect the bear shot by Sam and so they slowly made their way to the bushes.

          The remains, mostly blood stained foliage, of the poor, almost unidentifiable squirrel were scattered everywhere.  Not even a morsel for the crows could be found, only the end of its bushy tail.  Vinny sat down, pulled the top off of a Schlitz and toasted Sam and his excellent marksmanship.  The two bewildered guides finally gave in and joined their clients in a festive send-off to the obliterated rodent of the woods.  They had to fix up an old fashioned stretcher to carry or pull poor Clyde out of the bush and back to the cabin.  Luckily he was feeling no pain so the constant jostling and the occasional falling off didn’t seem to bother him too much.  The rip roaring laughter probably caused more discomfort than his ankle did. 

              They decided they needed to recuperate somewhere warmer, so they are now headed to Maui for some golf and relaxation.  Who knows, maybe they’ll do some deep sea fishing and Sam can bag a sunfish with his Hawken 50 caliber.

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