I was a funeral for a childhood friend today. We grew up together along with his younger brothers. I hadn't seen him in over 34 years, so came to pay my last respects. As I pulled up to the funeral home I noticed this strange hearse. Luckily I had my old camera in the car. Unluckily I suck at taking pictures with it.
The 3 wheeled motorcycle that pulles it was really sharp as was the carriage it towed. The brass lanterns and hardware and the clear glass made it look like the old horse drawn hearses.
The tree was in the ditch of an old gravel road, not another tree for 1/2 mile in any direction.
This poor young raccon must have been chased up this tree probably by coyotes, lost it's footing, and got wedged into spot in the tree where it couldn't get purchase to get out. This probably happened a couple of nights ago during the snowstorm. Or maybe just last night, the crows and hawks had not gotten to it yet.
Even though I was a hunter, or maybe because of it, I HATE to see an animal suffer. And to think of how long this poor guy suffered just makes me sick. Mother Nature can be as cruel as she is beautiful.
I have always believed in the one shot, one kill, principal and if for some reason the animal didn't expire immediatly, I was fast with the mercy shot. And I would rather let an amimal get away than to take a chance of only wounding it. And that is one of the reasons I no longer hunt. The muscle spasms in my arms and hands make accurate shooting a thing of the past. Oh, I'm still good with a snap shot and on a good day I am ALMOST as accurate as I used to be. But to me almost isn't good enough. And my last deer hunt left me with a bad enough experience to sour me from doing it again. But that's another story.