how to find boar ... omg

Unbelievable..... Faced with the same scenario with a .308 in my hand, it would be a difficult decision which to shoot first. On reflection I think it would have to be George!!!!
 
Now i see why they are called wild boar !!:lol: i think george would have to have the first bullet.
 
Right, trackies on, phone in hand, bring someone called George and make lots of noise, got it. That's how to hunt... I've done it all wrong for years

John, I'll still shoot one before I want my money back :evil:
 
"George - be quiet....George, can you be quiet........George....Gerorge....George, you need to be quiet. Can you be quiet George? George? George? Quiet! You need to be quiet George. George!"

What was his mate's name, I didn't quite catch it?
 
George phone everyone we know, just keep ringing people and telling them theres boar, but don't make a sound while doing it, George shhhh, I can barely hear my self shouting!!

Brilliant, Poor George must be so confused!
 
It would have been hilarious if a Boar had come crashing through the hedgeline near to George whilst he was taking a leak.

I think he would have needed a new pair of pants!!

The area looked like the weald area of Kent to me, but then again it could be anywhere.

GEORGE IF YOUR OUT THERE LET US KNOW PLEASE :D
 
Genius - stealth is not an option!

A few years ago, I was meeting a client in the West Country for the first time. I don't normally discuss shooting with clients unless they bring it up (not because I'm in any way ashamed of what I do but it's my business and I get tired of being ranted at by anti's).

However, the idiot architect who had called me in blurted out that I was just back from shooting boar in France. The client went nuts about how could I shoot them. I explained that they were wonderful creatures but, like everything else, needed to be managed for their own and their environment's good etc. "Nonsense" she cried and grabbing some biscuits off the table, went out of the french doors into the garden, called "Piggy, piggy", and one of the biggests boars I've ever seen (with hindsight possibly because of the scale of its surroundings) came trotting out of the shrubbery.

She then proceeded to hand feed it biscuits, whilst lecturing me that boars were Nature's buddhists, spending their lives in the contemplation of the infinite, respecting all life, and probably doing some charity work at the weekend. Needless to say, I decided not to take the job on.

Knots
 
Back
Top