All Right....You Made Me Do It
Gotta tell this Feral Cat Killing story.
Used to be a beautiful little hunting spot at South Bend, NE, maybe 20-25 minutes from Omaha. Before they put up the I-80 exit at Mahoney Park. Lovely place. Golf course now, more damnation.
I used to slip away and go there for a short hunt whenever possible. Never saw anybody else. Took my beagle there to hunt rabbits, but a pack of wild dogs killed her. Whole 'nuther story.
Went back next week w/.22-250 to get the rest of the dogs that I didn't kill first time. Beautiful sunny day. No dogs. Anywhere. But....as I looked down this very long set of twin tire tracks in the weeds, as the set of tracks went up the next hill there was this big black thing sitting in the left-hand track.
Threw down my pack, laid down, put the scope on it. Biggest darn fattest cat you ever did see. Put the crosshairs right in the middle of the cat, held breath, squeezed trigger, ka-boom. Scope settled back down. Cat piled up in a heap.
Walked the 250 yards or so. Pretty kitty. Looked like he was sleeping in the sun. Picked up cat. Heavy. Really heavy. Maybe 20-22 pounds. Beautiful Russian Blue, a Perfect Twin to our own Russian Blue at home. For a minute I had the dream-feeling I'd just shot my daughter's pet cat. Day was February 28, late winter. That cat had been eating incredibly well all winter long. Never missed a meal.
Was shooting 55gr HP bullets at about 3600fps. Back then I loaded hot. Expected to find cat in parts and pieces. Maybe red mist, like prairie dogs hit w/spire points. Got there. Picked up cat. Nothin'. Not a drop of blood anywhere. Felt the cat. Felt like a beanbag of crushed bones. Couldn't find an entrance hole. After carefully checking the back side, finally found what appeared to be a a tiny exit hole.
I've never been able to figure out the terminal ballistics of that kill. Still a mystery why it was so surgically clean, but shoulda been a mess.
And I never see your Forum tag without thinking--in a most satisfactory manner--of That Darn Cat.