"The Beast"
by Dr. Jerry Holubec

    What you are about to read may be classified as ultra bullshit by some people, but I am going to say it anyhow.

    We stopped after hunting for 3 hours to refill on water and allow the dogs to continue hunting an area they repeatedly were drawn to over and over. Willy commented that the pig was somewhere in the area. “We’ll just stay here and let the dogs hunt’em up,” he remarked. Almost on cue, the barking howl of the dogs announced they had found their quarry, and the chase had commenced. Willy bounced out of a sitting position and split through the barbed wire fence like shit through a goose. He was directly behind the dogs stopping only briefly to vector to the dogs’ howling. Hoyt and J.R. were behind him with our catch dog Sparky. I always thought I was in fairly decent shape, but running through the bottoms proved that different as I brought up the rear sucking hind tit.

    The dogs had my beast “bayed up” with Willy standing at attention 20 yards from them, pistol drawn. My boss was barking to me, “Jerry get up here, quick, quick draw your weapon and get a bead. My concern at that time was, “Could I make an accurate shot with the .454 Casull after having run 1 mile?” Willy and I had already discussed that in this situation I would take out the hogs hind legs and finish off the beast with a knife. Unfortunately, the pig either saw me or smelled me because as he came into my view, he broke and started running. My thought was, “Oh shit. How long is this going to last. I am beat.” There was not any more time to think about being tired. I had a hog to harvest, and he was mine.

    I met Willy Morris in the Summer of ’02. He made me promise to go hog hunting with him. Willy is a modest man who can talk the talk and walk the walk. What you see is what you get. I could not ask for any more from a person. I did go hunting with him 12/21/02 and harvested 2 pigs. The next time we went out, however, would be different Willy said. Next time we would be out hunting for “the beast”. It was a 600 lb. boar we were after that would set the Collin County record. The .41 magnum I shot one of pigs (320 lb. sow) with on the 12/21/02 would not be enough. I purchased a .454 Casull for that 600 lb. monster. The day before the hunt I took the new gun to fire the hot loads. Man, did it kick. However, I bet I would never hear the roar of the gun or feel the bite of the kick with that 600 lb. boar in my sights.

    The dogs caught up to the hog, and he was “bayed up”. Willy was not far behind. His gun was drawn. Willy popped a couple rounds from his .22 pistol into the hog to keep its mind on him and the dogs. Hoyt, J.R., and I came up quickly. Willy barked at us to come around to him. He was concerned that the hog would smell us and break again. I didn’t think that I would be in for another 1mile chase if the hog broke into another run. Better listen to the boss.

    The situation scene has become a whirl. Had I been in this situation at an earlier time?? My vision was becoming tunneled in nature. My entire focus was on this beast doing his best to keep the dogs away from him. The hog was whirling and spinning as a wagon wheel at an incredible rate. Having tunnel vision I did not see the whole picture. I didn’t see which dogs were doing what. Willy was there and had command of the whole situation. He brought me back to reality. Willy told me to pull my weapon and shoot that hog. My thoughts came back to, ”Would my bullet placement be appropriate so not to injure a dog? Would I be able to make a decent shot having run so far at an Olympic pace?” There was no time to dwell on these thoughts. The hog started to break. Oh No!!! Not another chase! Willy said, “Jerry fire. Get him! Get him!” I drew a bead and fired the big gun. I never heard the roar of the cannon or felt a kick. The shot was true. I had taken out the back legs of my beast. The dogs were still on the hog, and there was work to be done. Willy was there as my coach and mentor, “Take that knife and stick that hog. Get in there Jerry. Stick that hog. Work that hog. Sit on him Jerry. Work that knife. Wiggle that knife.” With my left hand on his head and my right hand working the knife, I claimed my trophy, my prize beast. He was a 400 lb. boar hog with a perfect set of unbroken cutter teeth. True, he was not the 600 pounder that we had looked for, but a trophy none the less that will be mounted.

    A couple of the dogs had been injured and I was administering care to them. Willy shouted, “Help me Jerry. Help me.” I looked up and saw the hog I had just shot with a monster pistol and stabbed with a knife all over Willy. Terror filled my face. My thoughts were, “Is this some kind of a movie? It seems that hog will not die. Get the kryptonite out.” Willy couldn’t help but break into a grin from ear to ear laughing and shouting, “Congratulations Doc.”

Talking about hunting……….$ 0.00

Money for gas from Dallas to Willy’s………$ 20.00

Booking a hunt …………………$ 100.00

Feeling those adrenaline juices flowing while claiming your prize with a knife……………..priceless.

This is primal hog hunting at its best. Wimps and girlie men do not apply.

Thanks again, Willy.

Dr J.