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Started by TennLongspur, February 29, 2012, 04:27:56 PM
Quote from: guesswho on February 29, 2012, 08:53:17 PMHunting with my Dad in the early 70's. We set up on a bird in Florida on our local WMA. We always had predetermined shooting lanes. The bird showed in mine and I dropped the hammer. The bird fell onto it's belly with it's head up (I now know that means his neck ain't broke). I walked over to get it and it started trying to get away so I grabbed it by a leg and picked it up. (I now know not to do that). Back then we didn't wear gloves. Now this was a long spurred Osceola and he starts to spin in my hand. First rotation puts a nasty cut in my palm. I let go but during his rotation he got his other spur caught in my shirt and was cutting my belly up pretty good as he flopped and spun. He was beating me with his wings and cutting me up with his spur and was working me over with his free foot as well. After fighting for my life for about 20 seconds I finally got a hold of his neck. I was a big Dusty Rhodes fan and I was desperate so all I knew to do was combine a big belly flop with a bionic elbow. So there I lay on top of a 16 lb. bird that had just about killed me, bleeding and out of breath and afraid to get back up. Then I remebered my Dad was sitting there. I looked over my shoulder at him and he hadn't even gotten up. He was just sitting there shaking his head with a priceless look on his face. I can't remeber his exact words but he said something to the effect like "Boy you can't be mine"