I Know This Is LRH... But What Is The Shortest Distance You Have Taken A Live Target?

Where were you? I grew up in Freer -- I GUESS that's South Texas...
Ranch outside of Los Angeles that was then leased by the owner of the company for which my Dad worked. His son now owns it. I grew up in South/South Central Texas (San Antoni area, Pearsall, Cotulla, and Pleasanton) from birth until 13. This happened a little later when we lived in Smithville.
 
Ranch outside of Los Angeles that was then leased by the owner of the company for which my Dad worked. His son now owns it. I grew up in South/South Central Texas (San Antoni area, Pearsall, Cotulla, and Pleasanton) from birth until 13. This happened a little later when we lived in Smithville.

Los Angeles! Man, isn't that a place! I've been there exactly ONCE.

Thanks. I was really, REALLY hoping you might be a school mate.
 
Shot a buck face on in the chest at about 8-10 feet across a ditch with a muzzleloader. Destroyed lungs/heart, liver, virtually everything. Eventually recovered the 325gr FTX in the back ham with the burger grinder. But with the blast in the face and smoke, with all that damage, the deer still covered 200yds at maximum speed before it dropped.
 
I've clubbed countless mice and other vermin that were practically underfoot, including on a golf course where I nearly disemboweled a prairie dog with my 7 iron.

But my most memorable short distance hunting experience was on an Estancia Valley, NM dove hunt. With the setting sun low on the western horizon my buddy Wally and I were being so inundated from the east by wave after wave of doves coming to water at the stock pond we had permission to hunt that we decided to not shoot any bird unless we'd have a chance to catch it, in hand, before it hit the ground. Whoever caught the fewest birds would pay for dinner. I had an incomer flying right at me, fast and low, and popped it just like a station 8 low-house skeet target. Actually more like a station 8 low-house INTERNATIONAL Skeet target (twice as fast.) Didn't catch it as only by ducking VERY quickly was I able to keep the dove from hitting me in the face!

As for big game, on a muzzleloader antlerless elk hunt in the Cumbres Basin Wilderness I was watching a well used game trail when I saw a 3 point bull approaching. I hid behind a big Ponderosa pine and watched him come up the trail which passed just to my left of that very tree. It was all I could do to resist smacking him in the butt with the barrel of my muzzle loader as he past by me, but I didn't want to cause a ruckus that could spook any legal elk that might be following along. But, no such luck. Wound up putting my tag on the biggest cow elk I've so far ever killed the next morning at a fairly close range of 40 to 50 feet, and ever since I have wished that I actually had goosed that 3-point bull!

Then about 20 years ago and just about sundown there was a black bear that woke me up from an early evening nap while it was trying to break into my pickup camper. Range was about 12 to 15 feet for my 12 gauge double barrel loaded with double aught buckshot. One shot, broadside and the bear took off like a scalded ape and disappeared in a cloud of dust. When the dust finally settled I could see in the fading light that it had only made it about 25 yards before collapsing, dead as the proverbial door nail.

If these 70-80 MPH spring winds ever settle down I'll have to get out for some more close encounters of the shooting kind.
 
I've clubbed countless mice and other vermin that were practically underfoot, including on a golf course where I nearly disemboweled a prairie dog with my 7 iron.

But my most memorable short distance hunting experience was on an Estancia Valley, NM dove hunt. With the setting sun low on the western horizon my buddy Wally and I were being so inundated from the east by wave after wave of doves coming to water at the stock pond we had permission to hunt that we decided to not shoot any bird unless we'd have a chance to catch it, in hand, before it hit the ground. Whoever caught the fewest birds would pay for dinner. I had an incomer flying right at me, fast and low, and popped it just like a station 8 low-house skeet target. Actually more like a station 8 low-house INTERNATIONAL Skeet target (twice as fast.) Didn't catch it as only by ducking VERY quickly was I able to keep the dove from hitting me in the face!

As for big game, on a muzzleloader antlerless elk hunt in the Cumbres Basin Wilderness I was watching a well used game trail when I saw a 3 point bull approaching. I hid behind a big Ponderosa pine and watched him come up the trail which passed just to my left of that very tree. It was all I could do to resist smacking him in the butt with the barrel of my muzzle loader as he past by me, but I didn't want to cause a ruckus that could spook any legal elk that might be following along. But, no such luck. Wound up putting my tag on the biggest cow elk I've so far ever killed the next morning at a fairly close range of 40 to 50 feet, and ever since I have wished that I actually had goosed that 3-point bull!

Then about 20 years ago and just about sundown there was a black bear that woke me up from an early evening nap while it was trying to break into my pickup camper. Range was about 12 to 15 feet for my 12 gauge double barrel loaded with double aught buckshot. One shot, broadside and the bear took off like a scalded ape and disappeared in a cloud of dust. When the dust finally settled I could see in the fading light that it had only made it about 25 yards before collapsing, dead as the proverbial door nail.

If these 70-80 MPH spring winds ever settle down I'll have to get out for some more close encounters of the shooting kind.
Well, if we are going to get into hand to paw combat, there are stories there too. I have certainly stomped my share of meadow voles bent on raiding my garden. But there was a night when visiting my sister-in-law at her house that was nestled deeply into the woods. The house was based off an old cabin, completely renovated, that still had many entry points for mice. Her cat had gotten old, and had slacked off the mousing duties.

For some reason I awoke in the wee hours to small, odd sounds in the bedroom. Investigation revealed that there was a mouse path under a certain point of the bedroom door that provided a travelway between an entry point and the pantry. Grabbing a boot, I was able to get several before they escaped the room. It quieted down for a while, but then more noises. A mama mouse was trucking dependent babies out of the main part of the house to somewhere. The boot was not going to do for that operation. So I selected a nice hardcover book out of the nearby bookcase and set up at the crossing point. This was going to take patience and timing. I knelt quietly, waiting, with the book poised just above the trail under the door, keeping it just high enough above the door bottom that I could detect any movement. When she poked her nose under the door I slammed the vertical book down like a guillotine. Fortunately I didn't get mouse brains on the book. I got seven mice that night before going back to sleep.

One of my most satisfying encounters, however, was with a pine squirrel. We lived on a mountainside in a bunch of Douglas fir. Some trees were very close to the house, and the second story windows and doors were treetop level. One morning a stupid pine squirrel started going off at something and just would not quit. The more it barked, the more wound up it got. I think it just worked itself into hysterics. It worked its way to a tree right next to our upper door and just went off nonstop. After carefully prepping the door so I could yank it open, I filled a bucket with cold water. That squirrel was drenched with the whole bucket of ice water from a couple feet! It just froze in place a moment, silent, then retreated shaking itself and individual feet like a wet cat, muttering to itself.😂🤣🤣🤩
 
Well, if we are going to get into hand to paw combat, there are stories there too. I have certainly stomped my share of meadow voles bent on raiding my garden. But there was a night when visiting my sister-in-law at her house that was nestled deeply into the woods. The house was based off an old cabin, completely renovated, that still had many entry points for mice. Her cat had gotten old, and had slacked off the mousing duties.

For some reason I awoke in the wee hours to small, odd sounds in the bedroom. Investigation revealed that there was a mouse path under a certain point of the bedroom door that provided a travelway between an entry point and the pantry. Grabbing a boot, I was able to get several before they escaped the room. It quieted down for a while, but then more noises. A mama mouse was trucking dependent babies out of the main part of the house to somewhere. The boot was not going to do for that operation. So I selected a nice hardcover book out of the nearby bookcase and set up at the crossing point. This was going to take patience and timing. I knelt quietly, waiting, with the book poised just above the trail under the door, keeping it just high enough above the door bottom that I could detect any movement. When she poked her nose under the door I slammed the vertical book down like a guillotine. Fortunately I didn't get mouse brains on the book. I got seven mice that night before going back to sleep.

One of my most satisfying encounters, however, was with a pine squirrel. We lived on a mountainside in a bunch of Douglas fir. Some trees were very close to the house, and the second story windows and doors were treetop level. One morning a stupid pine squirrel started going off at something and just would not quit. The more it barked, the more wound up it got. I think it just worked itself into hysterics. It worked its way to a tree right next to our upper door and just went off nonstop. After carefully prepping the door so I could yank it open, I filled a bucket with cold water. That squirrel was drenched with the whole bucket of ice water from a couple feet! It just froze in place a moment, silent, then retreated shaking itself and individual feet like a wet cat, muttering to itself.😂🤣🤣🤩
Mozambique, Leopard at just over 40-yards with my only weapon, my CZ .375 H&H. Through shoulder, fell very dead.
Screwed up message. Photo in next message below.
 
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1987, Five feet off the muzzle of a Remington 870 Police Riot gun, Remington #4 Buckshot, 27 Pellets, 2.75" shot shell, white 70# pit Bull male, in the process of attacking my partner.
Dog didn't make it. 19 entrance holes heart/lung shot, broadside to his left chest. Never seen anything die so fast.
Instantaneous seems like an inadequate description.
 
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About 18" from the end of my Remington 870 slug gun. I decided to hide in this thick hedge row along a well traveled deer path. A large group of does ran up on my left side and stopped opposite me, three or four feet away. I literally poked the barrel out of the brush, pointed at the largest doe's shoulder and fired from the hip. The deer actually had powder burns.
 
1987, Five feet off the muzzle of a Remington 870 Police Riot gun, Remington #4 Buckshot, 27 Pellets, 2.75" shot shell, white 70# pit Bull male, attacking my partner.
Dog didn't make it. 19 entrance holes heart/lung shot, broadside to his left chest. Never seen anything die so fast.
Instantaneous seems like an inadequate description.
Found it! 👍🏻I'm assuming of course that your partner escaped unscathed... 🤠😂
 
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