Coyotes 0, Rambo 1

So after an exhausting day and eventful night I call my husband Vince to remind him of all that he misses when he is away on business trips.  I tell him I love him, hang up and drift off to sleep.

I wake up to what sounds like dogs yipping outside my bedroom window.  I jump out of bed and call Vince.  I am looking out my window trying to figure out what they heck the noise is when he finally answers.  We concur that it must be coyotes after the sheep and goats.

I grab a gun and load it.  I put a flannel jacket overtop of my “Winnie the Pooh” pajamas and throw on my boots.  I put Vince on speaker phone and stick the phone in my jacket pocket.

Vince says take the dogs out with you and be careful.  I take my two vicious attack dogs (aahem), my loaded gun, and out the door we go.  The dogs stand on the back porch barking refusing to follow me to the barn.  They just stood there looking at me as if to say, “Go get them Mom.  You got the gun.  You don’t need us”.

Vince is on the speaker phone asking what I can see.  I see nothing but shadows of animals running all over the pasture.  My husband gives me the following instructions:

  1. Be careful, Please be careful.  (I am very accident prone…Lord only knows what is running through his head.)
  2. Take good aim before pulling the trigger.
  3. Remember that it is a steady pull to the rear.  (My husband used to be a firearms instructor when he worked at Lancaster County Prison).

Now my heart is racing.  I have visions of my precious babies laying in the pasture half eaten by packs of wild coyotes.  I know how to handle a gun.  I had to qualify yearly when I worked at Chester County Prison.  With that said, I know how to shoot an inmate…I don’t know anything about hunting wild animals.  With horrible visions running through my head, I am getting angrier by the moment.  I shine the lights into the pasture but only see my herd staring back at me.

I go down into the barn and check on everybody.  I take an official head count and report to Vince that everyone is ok and accounted for.  He tells me he thinks the yipping I heard was a coyote trying to get into the pasture but they probably got shocked by the fencing.

I tell him, “Nope.  They saw Rambo dressed in Winnie the Pooh pajamas, a flannel jacket, and boots, holding a loaded gun with two attack dogs flanking her rear.  They knew better than to mess with me.

Murders, Rapists, Mountain Lions, Bears, Coyotes and members of PETA officially fear me.  Welcome to my life…If I don’t laugh at it, I will end up resorting to heavy drinking to just get by.

About asciotti

Please keep in mind that I never grew up on a farm, lived in the city or its suburbs all my life. Many farmers out there will find this blog a hoot as I stumble through the every day life of running a farm (most of the time...all by myself).
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