I let this build up before I read the whole thing. FUNNY STUFF. Glad you are OK. I just sit back here in MI wondering what would be tuffer, huntin southern hogs or hunting with southeren hunters. Both groups can be ruff on a fella. It sure sounds like fun either way.
THAT PIG WAS HUGE!(i think, never seen one in the wild before)
way to go Matt.
Chuck

Very nice rooter      

Just goes to show that there is no place for a pig to go on Paradise where he won't run into Matt!

Good hog Matt. Glad you ain't dead.

I agree with Chuck, you southern boys have us northern boys second guessing hunting them big hairy, knock you on can hogs.

Forgot to add, glad your alright Matt, and that you killed that hog. You must be living right.

You fellas obviously are talking about the wrong Matt. When he and I were pioneering the late hunts at Solana (until then they had no scheduled hunts after early December except the doe control rifle hunts) he cooked at least two of our meals and one was so fancy that Shep was scared to eat it---said he wasn't sure that ginger was something that was meant to be eaten.

Anyway, the Matt i know would never dream of feeding anybody canned soup, he's way too discriminating for that.

Now about that hog and Montana: anybody who's been around Montana (or my wire Max) will tell you that she (and every wire I've ever been around) are very moody. She was probably mad with Matt about something and decided to teach him a lesson by not chasing it until after it gave him a scare

If you'd have put an armadillo skin on that hog Matt it wouldn't have gotten ten feet before it was stripped to smitherines and there was blood in a forty foot circle.

I wouldn't trust that dog of Matt's if I had a porterhouse in one hand and a .45 in the other.