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Tree stand and pheasant
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Dave Smith    Posted 11-06-2004 at 16:21:50       [Reply]  [Send Email]
Wednesday, some buddys came up and we built a new tree stand.

All the time we were working. This guy was under foot. My mieghbor is a member of the Safari club and he released 500 in the area. This guy is too used to people.

I went back today to install some window channels and he returned. While I was on the ground, he snuck up and pecked me on the back of the leg. I gave him a swift boot and sent him flying. A little later I turned around and he was flying right at my face. I punched him and drove him to the ground. When I was working up above he came and roosted on the ladder.

When I was picking up to come back to the house he attacked me again. I picked up a small switch and sent him flying again. Next time I go back I will take the hedge shears and he will end up in the Ronco minus his head.
Dave <*)))><

Les    Posted 11-06-2004 at 16:31:39       [Reply]  [No Email]
When I was in high school, we had one hang around in the winter. He would pick around out back of the barn where we fed the cattle and sheep outside. At first he would fly off every time the door opened. Pretty soon he got used to us and before the winter was over, he was living under the barn and would eat corn right out of your hand. That's probably the only way he survived. They don't usually do too well in this climate.
We raised some one time and they never stopped going back and forth looking for a place to get out. Wild as wild can be. But the one that was free to come and go as he pleased became tame. Go figure.

RN    Posted 11-06-2004 at 16:59:21       [Reply]  [No Email]
Couple times had hen pheasant cut by mower, eggs brought home and tucked under setting hens, hatched and chicks grew up with banties and ducklings. The pheasants stuck around over winter in brooder house, had small flock next year coming into yard for water and a bit of feed. They didn't fear humans, ended up easy targets for hunters when they went outside farm fence. RN.

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