We couldn't wait. My son and I went out this afternoon looking for Jackrabbits. I took the 7 mag along hoping for a long distant shot at a coyote.
The boy was quite sure he was "The perfect rabbit shot" I guess we need to catch the local jackrabbits and paint targets on them. He's done quite well with some paper, but he must have had "Jack Fever" this afternoon. He kicked up dust all around them. The closest he came was to give one a pierced right ear. He went though about 30 rounds in his .22
We were heading for home when I looked over his head, hit the brakes and asked him why he didn't point out the coyote standing there, 25 yards off of the two track. By the time I got out of the jeep, and a single bullet out of the backpack he took off running. One of those angling away type shots. I hit him in the hips, and he went down in a clump. So Craig started out after him with his .22, The coyote jumped up, I called the boy back, and misjudged the range on the small coyote. I thought he was a little over two hundred yards out, he was actually 147. I aimed high and hit where I aimed. But he went down and stayed down. I carried the rifle back to the jeep, and the boy started out again.
When Craig got 20 yards or so from the coyote, he found new life. Jumped up and ran full out. That kid may have missed a few jackrabbits, but he hit that running coyote with his little single shot .22 and folded it up for good.
I bet you could hear our shouts of joy across the desert for miles around.