I first spotted him just after daybreak waddling away from my modest garden. The Lord only knows how much damage he could have done if I had not scared him away that early in the AM. And so, even though Sunday hunting for groundhogs is not allowed here in PA, I took his intrusion into my backyard personal. And I knew from decades of past experience that unless I dispatched him, he would not be able to resist the tender plants and would be back to finish off what he had started.

And so I waited. And waited. And waited some more. Almost 10 hours later, he finally showed himself. Enough time that a self respecting prairie dog shooter would have spent a 5 gallon bucket of ammo, or more. But whether around the homestead, in alfalfa fields or along fence rows, chuck hunting oft times is just a waiting game. And those wise from up-close-and-personal contact with humans can get spooky nervous at the slightest sound or movement.

Luckily I spotted him quartering away from me when I peaked around the corner of the machinery shed...at 32 paces...with the sun in his eyes. Still, he must have sensed me and started to head for the old wood pile when I caught him with a 50gr Sierra Blitz from my 223 Rem H&R Handi Rifle...25.1gr of VihtaVouri 133. It's my $169 beater [minus the old 6x Redfield scope]I have nicknamed catgun , for all the feral cats that well-meaning city folks keep leaving off, figuring I will give their pussies a good home in the country. Wrong! Probably not an accurate moniker since it has killed many more chucks and crows than cats.

And so I stand guard on this holiday weekend for the next trespasser. I know they're out there. It's just a matter of time.

Looks like he might have already eaten the garden - he's huge. Congratulations!

God Bless, Louis