Arkie John
Active member
Nearing nine years now, we moved to the Hilltop, as we call our homeplace, here in Pearcy, Arkansas. It was a good buy for many reasons. First, it bordered 400 acres to the south of us that was used only for an "old man's" hunting club. (They hunt only four or five days a year) To the north was the National Forest, for the most part and to the east an uninhabited 40-acre field, and between this field and our property, a land-locked, elongated wooded 8-acre tract. Our only close neighor was across the road, a gentile older lady we refer to as "Ms Patsy."
Everything was great, just as expected. Soon after moving in, Tom and I built a couple of tree stands but finally relocated them juusst in the right place.
All was well the first few years. Then one day I heard sounds of a construction crew. The good doctor was building a spankin' shiney metal pole barn! Trouble was, he rudely backed it up very close to the back of his property facing me. There was still enough woods between me and the doctor's activities that it wouldn't impact the hunting too much, so I just 'managed.'
Now, this doctor is like most doctors. He has lots of money, especially by this country boy's standards. From the tree stand, I watched as he amassed one of everything and each one was NEW. Four-wheelers, tractor, bushhog, disc, stable, round pen, camping trailer, livestock etc. etc. etc. You get the picture.
The good doctor's house was in town in a fine gated community. I figured, from the viewpoint of the tree stand, it was just his little place to unwind. Each year I would watch him parade back and forth on first one thing and then another. He could never see me because I was 130 yards back in the woods, across the 8-acre strip from him.
He looked so happy, drivin' in, in his new vehicles, enjoying all his new stuff every day. I growled with jealousy a little but not for long. You see, it's not about wanting stuff you don't have, it's about praising the Lord for the things you DO have. But once in a while, I have to admit, he got on my nerves when he'd make so much new racket with his new stuff when I was tryin' to hunt. I just took it. He had as much right to unwind as I did. He was on HIS land, right? Right. Why couldn't he get into hunting and join a fine club far away from my tree stand? Too much to ask, I suppose.
Well, things bumped along and one day I mounted the tree stand to see a new dish system mounted to the back of the barn. Strange, but not surprising. I looked hard. Then I noticed a new AC/heating unit hooked in and cycling on and off as demanded. I was beginning to feel paranoid, kinda like I was turning into Samatha's nosey neighbor on the old "Bewitched" show. I thought, "Now, I've heard of city ranchers but, this is getting a little strange."
Whenever I go into my tree stand, I usually carry one of those wrist-rocket sling shots...the kind that has the surgical tubing on it, you know. It's just for the boring times, you see. I have killed countless squirrels with it, including one DUCK, while fishing once. But that's another story.
Well, I got to noticing the good doctor coming to the "farm" about 0900 each Saturday morning and then I started seein' a nice smart looking little covertible meeting him there as well. Now I'm not one to gossip, so I just kept all this stuff to my little ole' self. The driver of the convertible was a stunningly beautiful lady probably 15 to 20 years his junior. At first I thought it was a daughter or niece. Silly me--but give a guy a break, Right? But "somepin'wrong somewhere." Still completely undetected, between deer kills, unfolding before my very eyes was my very own little Peyton Place.
Bein' a "man of the cloth" so to speak, it was an annoyance to me to come to MY get-a-way spot and have to be subjected to this little playhouse situation. I was an unwilling witness to stuff I did not want to be a part of. Can you see that? What could I do to discourage this? How could I impact the situation and still maintain my anonymity? I thought... and I thought. Then it came to me! A brilliant idea, if I do say so, myself.
The good doctor had a bunch of Brangus cattle roaming over the over-grazed 40 acres. Once or twice I decided to see if I could range in one of those bulls with a steel ball from my sling shot. Now, I know you may find this a stretch, but if I'm a lyin' I'm a-dyin' as Jerry Clower said. I really got pretty good at aiming up a good 55 degrees and right through the only opening through the trees to his clear pasture, some 130 yards away. Why, with regularity now I could fling one of those steel balls (which was about 5/8" across) and smack those old cows. Man, when I'd do that, they'd snort big time and try their best to "jump over the moon." Now, for cryin' out loud, it really didn't HURT 'em. But it was amusement for me to make such a lloooonnnngg shot and BULLSEYE. (almost literally)
SLAM!!!! Back to reality. I focused on the convertible. I peered through the trees. Yup, there she was, right on time and dressed to kill. This is where it gets a little sinister on my part. I waited about 15 or 20 minutes after they went inside. Then I took me a good, round steel ball and placed it in the leather pouch-holder of the slingshot, pulled it back and gave it some Kentucky windage and let'er fly.
I missed. I tried it several more times. Once, I snagged a limb. Once it was too short. So like an old artillery officer, I adjusted my incoming fire. "Up five degrees, left five degrees. Danger close." I thought. I "locked and loaded another round" and rared back, pulling that surgical tubing to my ear for the proper anchor. (We have to have a PROPER anchor, you know) I released! Well, buddy, this time, I found my mark. Wwwhhhaaaapppp! It had arched perfectly, steeply, out of the tree canopy and up, up, over and down and down fast. It smacked that tin roof just like it was SUPPOSED to. It sounded like a dang meteorite done made a direct hit on the good doctor's barn/playhouse/lair!
There were no trees around, so they KNEW it wasn't an acorn or anything like THAT. Heh, heh, heh! I could just imagine, "What was that?" "Oh, don't give it a thought, baby. It's probably just the building settling. Just relax and we'll be fine." That went so well, I thought, "I wonder if I could do it AGAIN?" I readied another steely and let-er-rip. CCCRRRAAAKKK!!!!! Another bullseye, not ten minutes from the first. Wow! What a coincidence! TWO meteorites in ONE day! Wow. Listen folks, can you imagine what's going on in there NOW?
I'm not a betting' man, generally, but I'd be willing to bet that now, even the good doctor was having trouble concentrating on the task at hand. Here I am, like a 12-year old boy, dyin' laughin', muffled as it may be sos not to mess up the hunt.
With no mercy, after a couple more failed attempts, I repeated my dastardly deed a THIRD time, not five minutes after the second impact. I'm here to tell you, neither of them could stay hitched. The door busted open and this wild-eyed woman hurriedly got into her vehicle, the good doctor in pursuit. I couldn't hear their conversation, but I could see their body language. It looked like something from an old Laurel and Hardy movie. He was flailing his hands in the air but she didn't even look back. She was in the car and off she went. I'm grinnin' so hard and so much that my cheeks were gettin' charlie horses in 'em! I have a terminal case of grins and giggles but I dare not call the good doctor.
The next weekend was a repeat of the one above. Only it didn't take THREE hits. Only TWO.
Oh yeah!! Folks, I never devulged any of this to anyone until this week.
Just the other day, before the gun season opened, I encountered the 8-acre land owners nephew. One look and one paragraph from his mouth made me realize the results of four generations of inbreeding. But he spouted off among so much other disjointed conversation about Ole' Dr. Feelgood gettin' caught by his wife with his girlfriend in the barn. He said that the wife had no access but she just blocked the gated driveway and just waited.
Well, I reckon the morale of the story is that "those that play will pay." The good doctor sold the "farm" to a Mississippi couple and they promptly built a nice house not 400 yards from my tree stand, complete with dog kennels near the deer trail.
Nowadays, I don't get the entertainment I once had, but I do kill a little more game that I once did. Actually the neighbor's dogs act as a sentry and nary a deer nor turkey gets by them. The farm, other than the dogs, is not NEARLY so noisy now, so the tradeoff is in my favor.
The good doctor is still married. So he must have a very forgiving wife. I doubt if he's still monkeying around with another monkey's monkey...because he is still alive. Those are GOOD things.
So, now, I have a good place to hunt, the good doctor is happier (I hope) and the Mississippi neighbors are happy in their new home, complete with 40 farm acres.
It's funny how we want what we can't have, sometimes. Someone once told me that the world's problems are all because of men wanting something they don't have. I want to always praise God for the things I do have. Yeah! That's right. Just how many grown men do you know that have a vintage (30 year old) wrist rocket slingshot? Hmmmmmm? Careful now. Don't you dare covet!!! We wouldn't want anything falling out of the sky on you, now would we?
Thanks for comin' along to the treestand to observe...the Good Doctor's Lair. <><
aj
Everything was great, just as expected. Soon after moving in, Tom and I built a couple of tree stands but finally relocated them juusst in the right place.
All was well the first few years. Then one day I heard sounds of a construction crew. The good doctor was building a spankin' shiney metal pole barn! Trouble was, he rudely backed it up very close to the back of his property facing me. There was still enough woods between me and the doctor's activities that it wouldn't impact the hunting too much, so I just 'managed.'
Now, this doctor is like most doctors. He has lots of money, especially by this country boy's standards. From the tree stand, I watched as he amassed one of everything and each one was NEW. Four-wheelers, tractor, bushhog, disc, stable, round pen, camping trailer, livestock etc. etc. etc. You get the picture.
The good doctor's house was in town in a fine gated community. I figured, from the viewpoint of the tree stand, it was just his little place to unwind. Each year I would watch him parade back and forth on first one thing and then another. He could never see me because I was 130 yards back in the woods, across the 8-acre strip from him.
He looked so happy, drivin' in, in his new vehicles, enjoying all his new stuff every day. I growled with jealousy a little but not for long. You see, it's not about wanting stuff you don't have, it's about praising the Lord for the things you DO have. But once in a while, I have to admit, he got on my nerves when he'd make so much new racket with his new stuff when I was tryin' to hunt. I just took it. He had as much right to unwind as I did. He was on HIS land, right? Right. Why couldn't he get into hunting and join a fine club far away from my tree stand? Too much to ask, I suppose.
Well, things bumped along and one day I mounted the tree stand to see a new dish system mounted to the back of the barn. Strange, but not surprising. I looked hard. Then I noticed a new AC/heating unit hooked in and cycling on and off as demanded. I was beginning to feel paranoid, kinda like I was turning into Samatha's nosey neighbor on the old "Bewitched" show. I thought, "Now, I've heard of city ranchers but, this is getting a little strange."
Whenever I go into my tree stand, I usually carry one of those wrist-rocket sling shots...the kind that has the surgical tubing on it, you know. It's just for the boring times, you see. I have killed countless squirrels with it, including one DUCK, while fishing once. But that's another story.
Well, I got to noticing the good doctor coming to the "farm" about 0900 each Saturday morning and then I started seein' a nice smart looking little covertible meeting him there as well. Now I'm not one to gossip, so I just kept all this stuff to my little ole' self. The driver of the convertible was a stunningly beautiful lady probably 15 to 20 years his junior. At first I thought it was a daughter or niece. Silly me--but give a guy a break, Right? But "somepin'wrong somewhere." Still completely undetected, between deer kills, unfolding before my very eyes was my very own little Peyton Place.
Bein' a "man of the cloth" so to speak, it was an annoyance to me to come to MY get-a-way spot and have to be subjected to this little playhouse situation. I was an unwilling witness to stuff I did not want to be a part of. Can you see that? What could I do to discourage this? How could I impact the situation and still maintain my anonymity? I thought... and I thought. Then it came to me! A brilliant idea, if I do say so, myself.
The good doctor had a bunch of Brangus cattle roaming over the over-grazed 40 acres. Once or twice I decided to see if I could range in one of those bulls with a steel ball from my sling shot. Now, I know you may find this a stretch, but if I'm a lyin' I'm a-dyin' as Jerry Clower said. I really got pretty good at aiming up a good 55 degrees and right through the only opening through the trees to his clear pasture, some 130 yards away. Why, with regularity now I could fling one of those steel balls (which was about 5/8" across) and smack those old cows. Man, when I'd do that, they'd snort big time and try their best to "jump over the moon." Now, for cryin' out loud, it really didn't HURT 'em. But it was amusement for me to make such a lloooonnnngg shot and BULLSEYE. (almost literally)
SLAM!!!! Back to reality. I focused on the convertible. I peered through the trees. Yup, there she was, right on time and dressed to kill. This is where it gets a little sinister on my part. I waited about 15 or 20 minutes after they went inside. Then I took me a good, round steel ball and placed it in the leather pouch-holder of the slingshot, pulled it back and gave it some Kentucky windage and let'er fly.
I missed. I tried it several more times. Once, I snagged a limb. Once it was too short. So like an old artillery officer, I adjusted my incoming fire. "Up five degrees, left five degrees. Danger close." I thought. I "locked and loaded another round" and rared back, pulling that surgical tubing to my ear for the proper anchor. (We have to have a PROPER anchor, you know) I released! Well, buddy, this time, I found my mark. Wwwhhhaaaapppp! It had arched perfectly, steeply, out of the tree canopy and up, up, over and down and down fast. It smacked that tin roof just like it was SUPPOSED to. It sounded like a dang meteorite done made a direct hit on the good doctor's barn/playhouse/lair!
There were no trees around, so they KNEW it wasn't an acorn or anything like THAT. Heh, heh, heh! I could just imagine, "What was that?" "Oh, don't give it a thought, baby. It's probably just the building settling. Just relax and we'll be fine." That went so well, I thought, "I wonder if I could do it AGAIN?" I readied another steely and let-er-rip. CCCRRRAAAKKK!!!!! Another bullseye, not ten minutes from the first. Wow! What a coincidence! TWO meteorites in ONE day! Wow. Listen folks, can you imagine what's going on in there NOW?
I'm not a betting' man, generally, but I'd be willing to bet that now, even the good doctor was having trouble concentrating on the task at hand. Here I am, like a 12-year old boy, dyin' laughin', muffled as it may be sos not to mess up the hunt.With no mercy, after a couple more failed attempts, I repeated my dastardly deed a THIRD time, not five minutes after the second impact. I'm here to tell you, neither of them could stay hitched. The door busted open and this wild-eyed woman hurriedly got into her vehicle, the good doctor in pursuit. I couldn't hear their conversation, but I could see their body language.
It looked like something from an old Laurel and Hardy movie. He was flailing his hands in the air but she didn't even look back. She was in the car and off she went. I'm grinnin' so hard and so much that my cheeks were gettin' charlie horses in 'em! I have a terminal case of grins and giggles but I dare not call the good doctor.The next weekend was a repeat of the one above. Only it didn't take THREE hits. Only TWO.
Oh yeah!! Folks, I never devulged any of this to anyone until this week.Just the other day, before the gun season opened, I encountered the 8-acre land owners nephew. One look and one paragraph from his mouth made me realize the results of four generations of inbreeding. But he spouted off among so much other disjointed conversation about Ole' Dr. Feelgood gettin' caught by his wife with his girlfriend in the barn. He said that the wife had no access but she just blocked the gated driveway and just waited.
Well, I reckon the morale of the story is that "those that play will pay." The good doctor sold the "farm" to a Mississippi couple and they promptly built a nice house not 400 yards from my tree stand, complete with dog kennels near the deer trail.
Nowadays, I don't get the entertainment I once had, but I do kill a little more game that I once did. Actually the neighbor's dogs act as a sentry and nary a deer nor turkey gets by them. The farm, other than the dogs, is not NEARLY so noisy now, so the tradeoff is in my favor.
The good doctor is still married. So he must have a very forgiving wife. I doubt if he's still monkeying around with another monkey's monkey...because he is still alive. Those are GOOD things.
So, now, I have a good place to hunt, the good doctor is happier (I hope) and the Mississippi neighbors are happy in their new home, complete with 40 farm acres.
It's funny how we want what we can't have, sometimes. Someone once told me that the world's problems are all because of men wanting something they don't have. I want to always praise God for the things I do have. Yeah! That's right. Just how many grown men do you know that have a vintage (30 year old) wrist rocket slingshot? Hmmmmmm? Careful now. Don't you dare covet!!! We wouldn't want anything falling out of the sky on you, now would we?
Thanks for comin' along to the treestand to observe...the Good Doctor's Lair. <><
aj
