Not quite a Booner, but...

[Barbwire]

If he was not threating you or going to be a meal, live and let live.

 

[Gimmebackmybullets]

If he was not threating you or going to be a meal, live and let live.

Is that how you would handle a rat in your house? Because I'm gonna go out on a limb here, and assume you would not eat the rat.

 

[Barbwire]

Is that how you would handle a rat in your house? Because I'm gonna go out on a limb here, and assume you would not eat the rat.

Nope, I kill rats but they are very destructive.

 

[Gunanddoglover]

Possums ain't rat's.

 

[Gimmebackmybullets]

Possums ain't rat's.

Looked like a Booner Rat to me

 

[Gimmebackmybullets]

I try to subscribe to the rule of, If I'm not eating it, I'm not killing it - wouldn't eat opposum, so....

Sent from my BV4900Pro using Tapatalk. Dinner is served.

 

[K79540]

Well,I was going to save this story for the Deer Camp thread, but I will go ahead and give the history that started my hate for possums. About 1989 at deer camp in Greene Co.one frosty morning I woke up earlier than usual to a gurgling of the gut , Call of nature. Im talking about a call you want to answer on the 1st or 2nd ring. No time for boots, or pants, so luckily, in this mad dash to the outhouse, I snagged a Coleman lantern that was hanging on a nail , nearby, after releasing obscenities that would make General Patton blush after stepping on a fresh fallen pine cone. Now I did not realize at that moment, the fact that lantern was still lit, was going to be the hi point of my good luck for that entire day. But at that moment,after the pain from the pine cone calmed down some, all I'm thinking is how fortunate I am to be the 1st customer of the outhouse that morning. (Which, on a normal morning would be a treat). Now our community outhouse was a humble creation, of a older member that had since passed on. He must have been a long legged fellow, because my feet wouldn't touch the floor when I was in the drivers seat, but that's another story. It was Made of recycled and untreated chicken house boards, and had claimed that same spot for 20 years. Weather and hi octane manure had taken its toll on the backside wall of this fine establishment near the ground creating a hole for what we all thought was why we never had to de- cone this bad boy. It also emphasized the old saying "freeze your ass off" with a good east wind. Anyhow, after navigating that mine field of pine cones and hickory nut hulls, barefoot and squinched tight like a banjo string, I reach my destination. Ready for that soothing release of atomic splatter, and the satisfaction of knowing I did not need to visit the creek for a bath. But wait... Ive never heard a Coleman lantern hiss that loud. In a second that seemed like 5 minutes, Just before sitting down, I reluctantly shine down in the hole and see the fattest possum, of my then young life, with a set of teeth he stole from what had to be the rotting carcass of a great white shark (because at that time there were no grizzly bears in Woodville, Georgia). And them pearly white razors were about 2 centimeters from where my Manhood would have been hanging, had I not instinctively known the difference of, the normal hiss of a Coleman lantern, as opposed to the growl of a tiger striped possum, laying claim to his Thanksgiving Feast. I'm not going to tell the rest of the story. But if you have ever seen the movie: Dumb and Dumber, the part with the turbo lax is as close as it gets. And that Creek was cold that day.

I read it to the fam^...awesome!