I was out earlier this week checking the progress of the citrus trees. I am really excited by the number of fresh, juicy oranges, lemons and grapefruits that will soon be ripe for the pickin’. While taking inventory, a shot rang out. I ducked! Seconds later, more shots. Holy shit!
Laying on the ground and biting the dust during shotgun fire is a weird experience. All kinds of things run through your mind – like, when is it safe to stand to a crouch and run like hell for cover? After a few minutes, I bravely headed back up to the house. Half way to the security of hiding in my bathroom with the door locked, another shot rang out. And it was much closer than the previous shots. I hit the ground…again!
If I could just reach my truck, I would honk the horn to let them know there are people in the general vicinity. I began crawling along the ground like Rambo. Man, am I out of shape! Belly-crawling takes a lot of energy, especially when your heart is already pumping 90-to-nothing. Okay, I…can…make…it. Not to mention, this would be an inopportune time to meet up with, yep, a rattlesnake. I had to put that fear behind me and continue crawling.
I finally made it to the truck, but why in this world did I lock the damn thing? I’m out in the middle of nowhere, last check - zero crime. Just a little further and I’d be in the house. (And, speaking of bathrooms…) I finally reached the door, whew, safe and sound. I grabbed the keys and ran back to the truck as if I were Flo Jo and could outrun the spray of speeding pellets. Adrenaline, obviously, gives me a false sense of my true abilities. What a rush!
I looked like some whacked-out cartoon character - dirt on my face and clothing, darting from cactus-to-cactus and then fumbling with the keys - just to honk the horn. I decided to play a little tune rather than laying on it, figuring they’d think someone was in trouble and come running to help. So, I played “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap”. I kind of got into it, I was singing along as I beeped. It was a difficult selection to play on the truck-horn, but effective nonetheless.
I did have enough sense about me to know they were not shooting at me, I hoped. But, who wants to be in the line of fire? I walked back into the house and checked the Arizona Game and Fish site and discovered it was deer season. (Note to self: Print and post hunting schedules to refrigerator.) The landscaping hides the ranch house from all angles, they probably were not aware they were so close to anyone’s home. I’m sure they were aware after my tribute to AC/DC.
As I thought more about the hunters, I decided putting signs up along the property line might be a good thing. I wondered what would capture their attention. You know, so they’d be more careful. I went back to the computer and began designing warnings to hunters. Here’s a few I have placed in clear plastic sleeves and posted along the fence:
Laying on the ground and biting the dust during shotgun fire is a weird experience. All kinds of things run through your mind – like, when is it safe to stand to a crouch and run like hell for cover? After a few minutes, I bravely headed back up to the house. Half way to the security of hiding in my bathroom with the door locked, another shot rang out. And it was much closer than the previous shots. I hit the ground…again!
If I could just reach my truck, I would honk the horn to let them know there are people in the general vicinity. I began crawling along the ground like Rambo. Man, am I out of shape! Belly-crawling takes a lot of energy, especially when your heart is already pumping 90-to-nothing. Okay, I…can…make…it. Not to mention, this would be an inopportune time to meet up with, yep, a rattlesnake. I had to put that fear behind me and continue crawling.
I finally made it to the truck, but why in this world did I lock the damn thing? I’m out in the middle of nowhere, last check - zero crime. Just a little further and I’d be in the house. (And, speaking of bathrooms…) I finally reached the door, whew, safe and sound. I grabbed the keys and ran back to the truck as if I were Flo Jo and could outrun the spray of speeding pellets. Adrenaline, obviously, gives me a false sense of my true abilities. What a rush!
I looked like some whacked-out cartoon character - dirt on my face and clothing, darting from cactus-to-cactus and then fumbling with the keys - just to honk the horn. I decided to play a little tune rather than laying on it, figuring they’d think someone was in trouble and come running to help. So, I played “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap”. I kind of got into it, I was singing along as I beeped. It was a difficult selection to play on the truck-horn, but effective nonetheless.
I did have enough sense about me to know they were not shooting at me, I hoped. But, who wants to be in the line of fire? I walked back into the house and checked the Arizona Game and Fish site and discovered it was deer season. (Note to self: Print and post hunting schedules to refrigerator.) The landscaping hides the ranch house from all angles, they probably were not aware they were so close to anyone’s home. I’m sure they were aware after my tribute to AC/DC.
As I thought more about the hunters, I decided putting signs up along the property line might be a good thing. I wondered what would capture their attention. You know, so they’d be more careful. I went back to the computer and began designing warnings to hunters. Here’s a few I have placed in clear plastic sleeves and posted along the fence:
PRIVATE PROPERTY
KEEP OUT
If You Want To Keep Your Privates
WARNING
Hunting Near An Active
Volcano Is Dangerous!
DANGER
Armed Wildlife
On The Premises
LISTEN UP!
I Don’t Hunt in Your Front Yard
Don’t You Dare Hunt In Mine!
KEEP OUT
If You Want To Keep Your Privates
WARNING
Hunting Near An Active
Volcano Is Dangerous!
DANGER
Armed Wildlife
On The Premises
LISTEN UP!
I Don’t Hunt in Your Front Yard
Don’t You Dare Hunt In Mine!
I can only assume these signs are working, no shots have been fired anywhere near the ranch since their placement. And, if I do here shots again, I already have my next truck-horn song prepared – “Janie’s Got A Gun”. I did hear a truck stop down on the road late this afternoon. It was really quiet and out of the silence came laughter from a couple of guys - the truck then pulled away. I high-fived myself and went about gathering wood for my evening fire. Ahhh, life here at the ranch is good.
It may be an oldie but it's a goodie. Good luck as your checking out the citrus trees this year. I hear Bass Pro has a sale on kevlar suits.
ReplyDeleteThis was hysterical! I love the signs!! LOL!
ReplyDeleteI remember reading this one before! It was hilarious then and it still is now!
ReplyDeleteWorthy of a rerun!
hee hee ha ha ho ho
See, this is why I rarely leave the confines of a city. It's much safer.
ReplyDeleteLOVE this! Hysterical - but not without it's serious side effect. I sure wouldn't mess with your property, Miss Annie Got Your Gun! And hey, they shouldn't be anywhere NEAR peoples homes anyway! Have a yummy for your tummy Thanksgiving!
ReplyDeleteLMAO! Ok, not about you possibly getting shot. Love the belly crawling. I wouldn't make it very far I'm afraid.
ReplyDeleteGo out and buy some orange mumus!
There is a two lane, rural state highway that runs south of town here. During "dog season" deer run through the woods and across the highway with the dogs closely behind. We call it "the gauntlet" because you can run through a hail of gunfire if you don't time your driving just right. Happens every year that a car or two gets shot to hell running "the gauntlet".
ReplyDeleteI love the signs. The first one is my favorite.
ReplyDeleteWe get a little of that with dove season. We walk outside, hear gunshots, and decide it's safer indoors!
Well, I'm not surprised your signs gave the hunters a chuckle, because this story made me laugh. Glad you made it through such a scary experience to write about it.
ReplyDeleteOMG I was laughing. When I first moved to Arizona I was coming home late from work and heard gunshots being fired. I of course heard about drive bys and thought that was happening. So I ducked for cover and ran to my apartment. I soon learned there was hunting allowed in the desert behind us that time of year. I moved as soon as my lease was up.
ReplyDelete