About 20 years ago, I was on my way home from the hills one day by myself. I would travel down Warnerville, Rock River or Cooperstown Roads as much as possible to avoid Oakdale and highway traffic. You might see one car all day long on these dirt roads. They were wonderful.
Anyways, I was hooking it up down Rock River and way off in the distance I could see a ground squirrel up on a fencepost on the right hand side of the road watching the world go by. I pull up across the road and stop, waiting for it to freak out and haul ass, but it doesn't. It just sits there, staring at me. Well, we can't be havin' none of that shit, can we? So I picked up my 41 magnum off the front seat and shooting through the open passenger window, I blew that little sucker clean off the fence post, destroying him in the process. I mean I shot a ground squirrel with a 220 grain bullet. The bullet probably weighed more than the target did.
I got to admit shooting that magnum handgun in the inside of my truck probably wasn’t one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. I had a headache for a solid week and my ears still haven’t fully recovered.
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