Well, let me start by just saying that THEY started it. last summer, the coons (RACcoons, rather, not Uncle Ray and Aunt Mim) took action against me and mine by deliberately and methodically destroying the entire 4 100' rows of sweet coon that I had planted, watered and fertilized, (this being hauled in specially from a neighbor who by all appearences, specializes in fertilizer production and little else, since he has 8 horses on 1 acre of pasture) all leaving us with exactly 4 ears of unripe corn I had picked before they decided to go General Sherman on me and try the "Scorched Earth" wartime policy, presumedly to get me to leave. Of course I didn't, and true to the laws of escalation, I retaliated and killed 2 of their own. That was all fine and good, but I guess that I.C.U.R.V. (the International Council Uv Rodents and Varmits -they are not the best spellers, I guess) conspired with IPOOP (International Purlioners Of Other's Poultry) against my helpless mobile egg factories, (since the lack of real opposible thumbs prevents them breaking and entering my house and doing any real harm to me), and so one chilly evening we were sitting around the house with the door open and we heard a great squawking. I proceded to do a check up and discovered that we were indeed being invaded by a hostile enemy. I made short work of him; I had a military tribunal right there in the chicken house, found that nasty old 'possom guilty of conspiring to attack a non-combative civilian entity (chickens are about as non-combative as it gets, which most likely would be the reason behind the name calling), and sentenced him to death, all in as long as it took me to cock my gun.
I realized that things would likely only get uglier from here, so i upgraded my firepower to something that would intimidate the enemy into submission. Well, it didnt work. Brynn woke me up about 1:30 to tell me that the ducks were going nuts outside. I sat up and thought about it (not too clearly, though as 1:30 happens to be one of my very favorite times to not think too clearly) and decided that I had done such an excellent job of "demonstrating" the effectiveness of my new gun in my backyard (note: Thanks to N. Korea for that idea) that I.C.U.R.V./IPOOP wouldn't dream of another attack. But either I.C.U.R.V./IPOOP . inteligence is too lacking to discover that i had much supierior firepower, or perhaps they lacked the basic education to have learned about the US/USSR relations during the Cold War period in regards to military deterance. Or maybe they have just declared holy jihad against the infidle poultry, but regardless, I woke to find, yes, a dead duck and oddly enough, one of my sentries disabled and under restraints. (Cat was stuck in the live trap.) Clever little devils!!
BUT, this ain't over yet! I've got the chicken house under full time night survailence now (the baby moniter), reset my traps, loaded my "superior firepower", put my boots and pants by the door (pretty chilly outside and I want to avoid the "cold nosing" incident that Jerry Clower speaks of), and taped a flashlight under my gun. So; Bring it ON, I.C.U.R.V./IPOOP!!! I'm ready for you....
So Far:
Dan Foster 3
I.C.U.R.V./IPOOP 1 (and a bunch of corn)
P.S. My intelligence tells me that the I.C.U.R.V./IPOOP union has been so successful that they have decided to have a semi-permenate union... they are now refering to themselves as :I.C.U. POOP
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