A few years back a tale transpired that is no doubt told round the squirrel nests still today.
It happened on a warm and sunny October day. The hunter (me of course<img src=icon_smile_big.gif border=0 align=middle>) was moving slowly among the tall oaks trying in vain to be quiet when as chance would have it he met "the squirrel". The squirrel seemed to be the same as any of the other bushy tailed noise makers scurrying from one hidy hole to another. The hunter decided then and there that it was time to get even with the cause of many a quickened heart beat (in a tree stand a squirrel can make the noise of a monster buck or so the hunter always thought); so as the squirrel approached to within 10yds and sat upon its haunches for a quick snack the hunter drew his bow. Perfect set up, perfect draw, perfect anchor, everything was so perfect. TWANG! SNAP!? PAIN??????
The squirrel having just witnessed a tree hop up and down cursing scurried off to the nearest tree and loudly proclaimed the whole incident to friends, family, and of course the @#&* blue jays.
There I stood with a rope burn on my neck, a broken grunt tube, and an errant arrow that I would have to hunt for while being scorned by the local wildlife.
Moral of the story: Don't wear your grunt tube around your neck and shoot bow unless you tuck the tube away from string travel.<img src=icon_smile_blackeye.gif border=0 align=middle>
shoot straight, aim well,
and tell tall tales to
good friends.
Not to squirrels!

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