Showing posts with label wild pigs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wild pigs. Show all posts

Saturday, October 3, 2020

Out of Control Swine




According to Zerohedge the US feral swine population is exploding, with an estimated 1.5 wild hogs in Texas alone.

The pigs weigh between 75 and 250 pounds on average and can run up to 30 miles an hour. They're fast. Of course some pigs are larger, like this 300 pounder shot by a churchman's nephew a couple of nights ago.



But out of control swine aren't limited to Texas. They're advancing across the country at a rate of around 35,000 square miles a year. My old pal GWB shot this one in Georgia the other evening.



The ferocious tuskers cause more than $2 billion worth of damage every year. And no wonder, have you seen a field that's been attacked by pigs? Looks like an exploded minefield.



America's out of control swine are hybrids, a cross between the European wild boar and domestic pigs, creating a new breed of super-pig, with all the genetic advantages of the Euro Boar and its domestic US cousin.



Here at the Compound we remind all readers that there's no bag limit on these savage, diseased predators. Remember, too, to pray for POTUS' speedy recovery.

The number of feral swine living within DC's infamous Beltway is currently unknown.

Root and Branch,

LSP

Sunday, January 21, 2018

Hog Poetry!




Here it is readers, the latest Hog Poetry.

Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the hogs
That root round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon,
The reticule illuminate, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast,
That, whether there be swine, or gloom o'ercast;
They always must be with us, and hogs die. 



Carry on,

LSP

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Go Fishing After Mass



There's all kinds of ways you can relax on Sunday afternoon after Mass and I'll share one option with you. Go to a lake somewhere in central Texas and catch some fish, or at least try. With that in mind, I put a rod in the bed of the rig, Blue Crankbait in the cab and drove off to RV with GWB at a lake.


Hope Springs Eternal

Would I catch any fish, I asked myself hopefully, as Blue Eschaton frisked and gamboled in the lakeside pasture. Remembering past success, I put a sparkly green worm on a Bass hook and cast off. Bass love sparkly green worms, I thought, full of pescatorial wisdom. 


A Bass

Strike! Fish on, the rod bent double and out played the line. Big excitement in LSPland, I can tell you, and after a decent fight I reeled in a Bass. Good result. A little later, GWB tipped up and cast off with a spinner but soon retired to watch a Sand Hill Crane through a spotting scope. There it was, a Sandhill Crane. 


Recon

I kept fishing, however, which is a sport that's all about perseverance, and was rewarded with a fair sized Catfish that struck my plastic worm near the surface. Again, big excitement, top water hi-jinx, but he slipped the hook after thrashing about in the water like an enraged Great White. Readers, all three of you, don't underestimate the fury of the fish. Then, as the sun was beginning to set, another Bass decided to strike, this time hitting a blue worm. Bass love blue plastic worms. Well, at least this one did, and that was that.


A Typical Texas Sunset

Fishing adventure over, we scouted out the land near the lake for potential predator calling and hunting. It's beautiful country and remarkably green and lush, which will change all too soon under the fierce Texan sun; the country even has hills and views, or vistas. Rremarkable, it's like Gloucestershire, except for the bobcats, snakes, coyotes and wild pigs.

Speaking of which, the man who farms there says that pigs are always a problem and I guess they are, except when they're on the grill.

God bless Texas,

LSP

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Walking in Texas? Take a Gun.


They say that walking's good for you but in Texas you don't know what you'll find. 

Some Crew, All Wigged-Out In The Woods

Packs of wild dogs, turkeys, fierce hogs, maybe a dove or two and the occasional wigged-out crew of freaks, holed up in the brush, trying to "find the gig" and get back to Austin.

Mind How You Go

So I like to take a 12 gauge. 

Be safe,

LSP