I was a kid, about 13 or 14 years old, out hunting coyotes riding cross country on my motorcycle. Came across two, one of them carrying a rabbit. I took off after the one carrying dinner, figuring he'd be slower. Didn't take him long to drop the rabbit...
I was a pretty good motocross rider, and was able to stay on him. I would get up on him so close I was afraid he would turn around and bite me, then I would slam on the brakes, unsling the .22 rifle, and "spray and pray". This went on for a bit when I finally said to myself, "Ya know, it won't matter if he gets a few steps farther away, IF YOU WOULD JUST CALM DOWN, AIM, AND HIT HIM!!!" So that's what I did the next round. Just as I was about to squeeze off a good shot, he jumped a ditch to cross a dirt road. I thought, "ok, when he jumps the next ditch, I'll get him." And that's what I did. He jumped, and hit the dirt dead. My .22 bullet went in under his mouth, and out through the top of his head. Best (and luckiest) shot I've made in 60 years!
Vettepilot