Long before I started seriously hunting deer, I moved from shooting
straw bales to ground hogs.
Big difference, hogs moved, bales didn't.
Bales were 15 yards away every time, hogs you never know sometimes
only 5.
Then after 1st cuttin' of hay come late May or early June, you could
commence out early in the morning say 9:30 or 10:00 am to scout from
the hedge rows to spot the hogs in the sunrise.
You could find the dens, spot the holes.
And count the heads as they rise, tall upon their hanches percherched
upright against the sun.
You can see them, count them, one by one.
They whistle when they go down, they pop up like toast from a toaster.
One by one, up and down they go.
Ground Hogs, Whistle pigs too an fro.
It was like playing Cowboys and Indians in those days.
Like hide and seek and were off on our way.
Cover me clover and so do I go.
We creep and we craw with the wind at our soul.
Um huum, Um huum huum.
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