Wilson, 243 and pig
Walking the dog in the late afternoon when I spotted this would be tractor turfing my ground up, as if there was no tomorrow, and there wasn’t for said pig.
A mad dash to the house a rummage around for tools and back out fully expecting to not see ole scruffy.
Low and behold the beast was still there, a quick prone shot around 80 meters or so, and his excavations came to an abrupt halt. He is hanging up bare assed in the shed as we speak awaiting processing.
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