Not so much a gutting story,but a story about guts.
One lazy Alberta day,myself,Huntsman and another of our friends,decide to play "Natural selection squad" on the local dirt pig population.After we all had a couple kills under our belt,we RV back at our buddy's truck for cold ones and a smoke.
At this point in time,Huntsman produces his 12 gauge,and we all blast off a couple shells.He then goes and picks up one of the dead dirt pigs, places him on a fence post nearby and tells me to go grab the camera.I comlpy,and with my camera in movie mode,begin to film.
Now if this is'nt Karma,I don't know what is.The instant Huntsman pulls the trigger,the wind changes direction,and myself and huntsman are sprayed in the face with red mist and bone chips.
I tell ya,being a parent of 2 boys and having to change nasty,nasty diapers,it did nothing to prepare me for the stench and nasty spray of a gopher being shot at close range with a 12 gauge.I've never retched so hard in my life.
For about a week after,my wife was wondering why all the pictures she took had brown spots on em..........