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Posted by waffleman Promoted 39 days 2 hours ago 651 views
Lifestyle / General Lifestyle
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In part two of “why Women belong In the Kitchen” I’ll delve into a far more important rule for men to follow; “Women and Hunting definitely don’t jive”.
Back in rural Nova Scotia in the 80’s guns and hunting ruled. I was what some people might call a gun nut by Canadian standards, I prefer gun collector. In those days you could call the Dept of Lands and forests, tell them what guns you were bringing, your name, and wala you had a private session at a 200yard open rifle range for your reserved time. No one else around!
A few weeks after I met my wife I introduced her to my baby. At the range she was a natural. Blasting everything in sight. Targets that is. She tried most of my various weapons over the summer handling them superbly. I noticed to my dismay however, that she grew attached to my newest rifle a Browning semi 300mag, my baby!
I eventually talked her into going deer hunting in the fall.I planned on giving her an old single shot 12 gauge, the front bead missing, to use. Unloaded of course as She would be behind me. So we journeyed to a new area, close to the Atlantic Ocean. A densely wooded mixture of spruce and marshlands! I set my watch compass to the road so we wouldn’t get lost, and off we went. As soon as we entered the woods she reminded me that I had promised that she could use the Browning if she came hunting. Not wanting to be a whelcher, I switched guns after emptying the chamber and putting on the safety! I quietly wished she had of reminded me of this at home, as I had several other high powered rifles to chose from!
We headed through the woods as stealthily as possible, however,I noticed she was making quite a lot of noise, stepping on every dry twig in the forest. After quietly bitched at her repeatedly I sensed she was getting miffed. I finally reached my boiling point; "you’re scaring every deer in the woods!" The second I turned my head forward I noticed a Buck,about fifty feet away between two spruce trees;frozen and staring at us. I knew I had about five seconds before the deer would unfreeze and bolt. I whispered “there's a deer, give me the gun.” “Where is it” she answered? “Give me the gun quickly.” “Where is it” she replied again? “Give me the fucking gun”, I whispered, and off went the deer. Needless to say I was pissed!I wanted a clean shot with the Scoped Browning, compared to an iffy shot with the old single 12 gauge.
So we wandered further, taking a random left through the forest ending up on the backside of a marsh. “My feet are wet”, I heard from behind me. “Uh, didn’t you wear the new rubbers I bought you”? “No”. So being me, I just had to start teasing her and her wet feet, revenge for the lost deer I suppose. Bad move! We headed out using my handy dandy compass; She was soaked and cold, and I didn’t want her to get sick!
We had to decide between crossing a 100-yard marsh or walking all the way back around. Since dusk was approaching, we ended up leaping from Sod Island to Sod Island towards the other end of the marsh. Halfway across, she missed her jump and got thoroughly soaked. I made the mistake of ribbing her as I was preparing for my next jump, my back turned. Just as I began my jump I felt the butt of the browning pushing me over. “Splash”, in I went. “You bitch”; I laughed, as I crawled up to the next Sod, knowing that I probably deserved my dunking. I love that "Tom Boy" attitude in a woman.
As we reached the road I inadvertently got the last laugh. I demoted her to caddy, carrying both guns and other essentials while I jogged down the road to get the car. As she approached the car, two other hunters drove by us. Once they noticed this chick trudging up the road,armed to the teeth, water still dripping off her; They rolled down their window, and gave her, a new nickname. Look, it’s Rambini they jested as they drove by. I can still see the contemptuous look on her face!
The moral of this story is not what you might think! It could be that women blunder through the woods, and make too much noise, but it isn’t. The moral of the story is; you don’t set out to kill something with someone who doesn’t have the heart to kill! Evidently, she wouldn't give me the gun because she didn’t want me to kill the deer. And she knew I wouldn't risk wounding the deer with the old shotgun! A great shot at the range, but no killer instinct! A good quality in a woman! I respect her for that but she could have just told me. Alas, “Back to the Kitchen!”
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