Friday: Leaddog arrives to meet Polecat unloading supplies. Robba and crew arrives soon thereafter to go play in the “three inches of partly cloudy” that didn’t stop until the ground was turned from brown to white. Several small drives were in order, with Polecat chasing mules up the hill into the clouds. More mules encountered as the day progressed, which provided a nice workout for both the pursuers and the

Saturday: The entire crew assaults the realm of the Beast o’ Mighty in far away lands. Probie encounters a fresh buckrub on a tree that was the size of Spikes leg. Mules abound on the ingress route by Leaddog, no tails seen. Polecat shanghais Leaddog and pushes the Razorback out to Marsh, where he encounters a small buck with no chance for a shot. Chip decides to twist his knee on the escape out, and is placed on the injured list, but is still required to hunt the next day (see definition of “sympathy” and its location in the Ftroop dictionary). Polecat finds a hunter of a different brand in a tree stand, and cordially invites him to camp for a beer later; which they did. Three members of the rival “Scotty” camp drinks beer and marvels over the assemblage of horns and assholes that occupies Ftroops HQ. Other shenanigans were endured and will be discussed with the Toucher who wasn’t present this weekend and will be held liable. It appears that if Polecat can’t go to the local bar, he’ll bring the local bar to camp!

Our pursuit of happiness was compromised.

Sunday: Lowland, bunny hill hunts took place with drives that produced little. Boots were worn down from walks on asphalt to other watches as usual, Leaddog encounters two does as he lags behind as planned on the last drive. No buck this time! Hobbit has “visitors” in his watch area….which is still TBD as of their presence on private land. Where did they come from? Who were they? Were the looking for, and did they find George and Stosh?

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