Household dogs gunned down by 'yote hunters 🤦‍♂️

I’m currently at the “it’s Thursday already?” phase of the workweek and am unsure as to whether or not that is a good thing as of yet. For those of you who have also made it through, a pat on the back is deserved.

With that in mind, let’s all take a minute to grab a coffee or whiskey (no judgement) and get this Thursday morning dispatch out the door.

Here's what's worth reading about today:

• Mistaken identity - Two household pets accidentally gunned down 🐶

• Dairyland elk - More opportunity coming for Wisconsin elk hunters 👊

• Trump investigazione - Italian officials launch investigation into duck hunt 🇮🇹

• MOM! - There’s a bear in the front yard! 👋

POOR DECISIONS WERE MADE
A PAIR OF GERMAN SHEPHERDS WERE GUNNED DOWN DURING AN APPARENT COYOTE HUNT

In a (very bad) case of mistaken identity, a pair of pet German Shepherds have been killed by Ontario coyote hunters.  According to reports, the dogs were located in their back yard when shots rang out, alerting their owners that something was most definitely wrong.

Situated on a 5-acres property in the small town of Belmont, Ontario, Kaitlin Strong reportedly let her two dogs, Hank and Mary Jane, out in the yard like she had done many times before. But this time, they never returned. 

According to her statement, her dogs went missing on February 8th after she and her husband heard shots fired very close to their property…

👊 Wisconsin elk hunters are set to get more opportunity in 2025 and beyond. With banner population numbers posted up in 2024, it’s looking like it’s a good time to be an elk hunter in America’s Dairyland. According to the state’s Department of Natural Resources, Wisconsin’s elk population was estimated at a record high number of 544 animals in 2024.

As part of the news, the Department also announced that they will be releasing a record high number of permits for this year’s hunting season as well. With a population increase of nearly 7 percent, the state will release 17 tags this coming season and is also flirting with the idea of an antlerless elk hunt in the central herd for the first time. The aforementioned ideas are all set to be put to vote at the department’s February 26th meeting in Madison.

🕵️‍♀️ Venice prosecutors office now officially investigating Don Jr’s duck hunting incident. After hurling accusations earlier this month, Italian officials are finally getting down and dirty in the investigation into Donald Trump Jr’s recent duck hunt. After being accused by a regional councillor and a number of animal rights groups, the Venice prosecutors office has now entered the chat surrounding the alleged killing of a protected ruddy shelduck.

According to press reports, the prosecutors office is opening an investigation to determine who shot the duck in question and whether or not Don's group had their ducks in a row regarding local hunting regulations. In an original statement, the regional hunting administrator admitted that all rules and procedures had been followed, but has since stated that a police investigation was necessary just to make sure.

🫵 “MOM! There’s a bear. Watch as this big old bear walks up on a couple of moms and a whole bunch of kids enjoying the sunshine in the front yard.

The first kid’s survival instincts are 💯

🌳 Beyond the Pages: Robert Ruark’s Southport : Southport is located in Southeastern North Carolina in Brunswick County, on the South Carolina border. Southport is known for seafood, a nice vacation spot, and being along the banks of the Cape Fear River.

There are several landmarks to enjoy including the Old Brunswick Jail, Fort Johnston Southport Museum, and the River Pilots House. Another landmark is the Adkins-Ruark House, more commonly known as The Robert Ruark Inn, made famous by North Carolina author Robert Ruark in The Old Man and the Boy articles that appeared in Field and Stream and later compiled in book form. The Robert Ruark Inn is now a Bed and Breakfast, painted in its original yellow and located at 119 North Lord Street, within walking distance to downtown Southport and several local attractions. Read the full story.

🐇 A Rabbit Story: The sky opens up and dumps the rare kind of snow that cancels work in Wichita. The stillness of the working world creates a brief opportunity for a late season rabbit hunt. Not wanting to spend more time in the truck than on the ground, I drive to a nearby reservoir surrounded by public hunting land. It is a short drive, but I take the opportunity during the quiet trip alone to filter and sort complicated relationships with congregants at my local church where I serve as a lay-pastor.

In my mind, I write snappy replies to emails. I spit well-rehearsed retorts to backhanded compliments or forehanded offenses. I preach an improvised sermon half out-loud, lecturing the congregation for their laziness and half-baked ideas about faith. I am full of fervor, theatrical, and maniacal. It feels good to upend the institution, alone in the cab of a truck playing the imaginary prophet.

I find a pull-off with no trucks and park. Read the full story.

🌄 BandB Ridge:  My winter slumber is broken by a dull scratching. A foggy mind catalogs the sound before I awake. A mouse has made his way in through some fissure in the old miner's berth that is my home. I sit up and swing my feet off the side of the bed, letting them test the dark path to the bathroom. They feel for a white dog that can be seen in the dark, and a brown dog that can’t. But there's nothing there. Just empty space. Both have been gone for months now.

We had one good day, the three of us, a day where sunlight struggled through a cold January haze. A breeze was sweeping across the top of B&B ridge, just enough to push the birds down into the rocky cuts. Blaze and I wove up and down canyons, looking for telltale tracks in the snow. It took longer than usual to find them, but when we did, it was the puppy who did the finding. In a congregation of hoodoos, he wheeled and pointed. My doubts in the nine-month old novice evaporated as I walked into a flurry of tawny wings, the huns shrieking as they spilled over the hilltop.  

It was Blaze’s first good covey find. He repeated the act several times over the next few hours, his finale a 100 yard point on a single airwashed chukar crouched in sage. I promptly whiffed as the bird lifted into the wind, but I had a smile on my face. I could see the years laid out ahead: this fiery dog and me, exploring every corner of a forgotten desert. Read the full story.

Oh, and one more thing…