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Many years ago I was working in the high Mohave desert in California. Being from the east I was entranced with the geography and the natural wonders of anything I could visit within a long weekend's round trip. So I really had a fine time touring a vast area by road and dirt bike and on foot. I went up the Owens Valley one weekend, turned left and went to Yosemite. I had bought a big box lunch to eat along the way. Well, I stopped in a huge picnic area inside the park as I saw some park bears prowling around the dumpsters and that was way cool to this easterner. I located in the shade, sort of a higher vantage point over the area and saw the bears rooting about the dumpsters in the far back, lots of unconcerned tourists looking and some even setting down to picnic as they watched the bears. Did I mention that the dumpster cats scattered all over the picnic area when the bears actually got in the dumpsters. Pretty soon the cats are among the picnic tables begging or snatching food from people. After a bit the bears (3) jumped out of the dumpsters and headed for the watching tourists and their tables full of treats. As the bears got close the people grabbed the kids and headed for their cars leaving the picnic baskets and goodies on the tables. This was not a new drill for the bears or the cats. The cats were closer and I saw many on the table tops and even a couple in the food baskets as the bears methodically started at the tables nearest the dumpsters and pillaged their way across the picnic grove. As I watched one cat disappear into a big basket a bear sneaked up and without hesitation flattened the basket with one powerful whack of a paw. It reached up then with both paws, spread the basket open, carefully extracted the cat, and holding it, ripped off the cat's skin in one tug of its jaws. It then ate the cat in about three bites, including the head. I just put the rest of my box lunch back in the box and continued my trip. N.S. "Make yourselves sheep and the wolves will eat you" G. ned ludd | ||
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Sounds to me like the makings of a new Clancey novel. "The Bear and the Pussycrat". The lead feloin would naturally be call "Quadrapussy". In my opinion. Dan POTYHC www.SeparatedAfterBirth.FromItsSiameseTwin If yuro'e corseseyd and dsyelixc can you siltl raed oaky? | |||
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I guess bears like cat . Johnch NRA life Delta Pheasants Forever DU Hunt as if your life depended on your results | |||
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B.S. | |||
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Better bear bait than honeybuns? | |||
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N.S. Sherlock "Make yourselves sheep and the wolves will eat you" G. ned ludd | |||
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N.S., I believe what GSP7 was attempting to say was "Bear Sh*t", which is what the cat turned into after 16-24 hours. On a related note, I once saw a cat teasing dogs through the fence of a dog pen. Big old fat tom, and chain link fence. Thomas walks down the fence, with scruffy back, growling and puffing, yet tail was in the air with a kink in it. Well... the head bitch knew that she could lean the fence out mid-point between the posts, but was smart enough to let the cat get there, first. Faster than you could see it, the lead bitch had grabbed the cat by the scruff, and pulled the skin off the cat, leaving bare meat on the body, but legs and head still attached. (you see, the cat wouldn't fit through the fence, but the skin would.) And that IS N.S. Sherlock. | |||
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Does anybody slowly squish the guts out of the lower abdomen of a cottontail you just shot, then pull them out and discard, so as to lighten the load when you are in the boonies hunting? The rest of the hide pulls off that easy too. That's how easy the hide came off the cat. "Make yourselves sheep and the wolves will eat you" G. ned ludd | |||
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I don't recall doing is slowly NS, but I'm not that swift with a ginzu knife...never put a stop watch to it. I field dress everything except birds...well, a turkey if I have a long walk. Hate carrying the lice infested things over my shoulder. Dan POTYHC www.IllBetGodillaDoesA.SlowSquish If yuro'e corseseyd and dsyelixc can you siltl raed oaky? | |||
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Way back when dirt was new, the younger brother and I were squill hunting. He had shot a yearling and had never seen a warble.He asked me about the bump on the squills back and me being the caring,nurturing older brother told him to watch the bump. As the squill cooled, sure enough,out comes the warble. Said brother screamed like a little girl and threw the carcass down. He ran about 5-10 feet backwards and stood there having 'the piss shivers'. My Dad passed this same learning experience to me when I was even younger than my brother.It had the same effect on me. I remember Dad laughing at me, and I figure my brother despised me, as I did Dad. Then there was the time a squill 'came too' in the little brothers INSIDE game pocket of his coat.Kinda reminded me of the Alien comin' outta that guys chest in the movie.But much more animated. But thats a story in itself. I'll find time to post that one today.(Sad there were no crats involved.) My Strength Is That I Can Laugh At Myself, My Weakness Is That I have No Choice. | |||
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