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What's That Sound?

That's the name of a game we play here at our house at night. It's usually my wife who first hears something, then calls on me to go check it out. Fortunately for me, she puts a flashlight in my hand before she shoves me out the door and into the unknown. If I'm real lucky, she'll bring me my pistol--as if when I  do run into something out there in the dark, I'll be able to shoot it and not myself.

Usually, it's cats messing around, or deer in the woods causing the dog to bark. That's what I try to tell her, but she doesn't buy it. "Cats don't slam car doors," she tells me. She's got me there.

There were several nights that we'd hear dead limbs snapping and it would sound like something was stripping muscadine vines out of tree tops on the other side of the creek. I'm pretty sure we have a bear hanging around, and whatever something that size wants to do in the dark woods is his or her business. I'll stand out back to listen and shine the light through the woods for a while until she gives me the OK to come back in. Sometimes I'll get spooked and ask her if I can come back in for my own safety. She usually let's me in.

I've found possums and feral cats and a big hornet beating around the back porch light. I've sat out in the driveway to ambush coyotes trying to get to our chickens. I've picked up turned over  garbage by flashlight, looking over my shoulder the whole time.

I know that eventually I'll have to deal with something serious. One night I'll venture out to secure the perimeter and run into a bear, or maybe a cougar that SCDNR says does not exist.

I just hope that when I finally do meet Bigfoot face to face that my flashlight is bright enough to blind him temporarily, till I can either chamber a round, or get my wife to unlock the back door.

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