Now to the stuff that you all came here for; the truth.
While I can’t believe that I am the root of the entire scandal, I figured that my secret would come out sooner or later. Hence, when I decided to come clean, I was hesitant to say the least. My secret is one that could ruin my hunting career. My boyfriend may leave me and even my dogs may hate me. But when I figured that given my devastatingly good looks and blooming blogging career, procuring a new man as well as canine friends would be relatively simple, I figured I'd explain myself here and now.
I hear your scoffs and gasps of disbelief through my silent computer. You think that jackalopes are mythical creatures. Well let me tell you, madam or sir, you are wrong.
Jackalopes are macabre beings that look like rabbits. They have great, massive antlers that protrude atop their malicious domes. But do not be misinformed, readers, while they look as cuddly as teddy bears, they are the most ferocious evildoers in the forests in which they dwell. Jackalopes have been known to take down entire herds of antelope, slaughtering whatever comes in their way. They are the modern nomads of the animal kingdom, meandering from place to place in search of death and destruction. The jackalope has no concrete history as they are so ancient; any real history has long since disappeared. There are naysayers who believe that the jackalope is a novelty, faux animal that is used for silly mounts. However, I would love to know what these insane people think of my story.
It is in the essential nature of a jackalope that makes it a difficult animal to hunt. Their constant, erratic migrations make it practically impossible to know exactly where and when the hairy little buggers will show up. Many a hunter is quick to give up; as such odds against actually harvesting their target grow larger as the time to hunt itself diminishes. hunting times vary. But before getting into the logistics of such an undertaking, you should know that not everyone can hunt this beautiful creature. Fortunately, I am one of the lucky ones. Obtaining a jackalope hunting license equals the rarity of harvesting a 67-point buck or purple-striped pterodactyl. Jackalopes were a protected species until their over-population and subsequent fatal destruction forced the powers that be into instituting a special jackalope draft. My granddad was one of the lucky few who took advantage of the 1941 initiative. He put his name in and after signing more waivers than he did during WWII, he received this permit:
After possessing this piece of paper, he was ordered to put it in a frame and carry the whole shebang around with him, wherever he went; even out of season. Those jackalopes tranquilized by his pellets still adorn the walls of the house my nana and granddad shared. So, I had a big reputation to live up to when the permit was finally put in my hands.
I remember my first kill like it was yesterday.
Tradition dictates that an individual’s first jackalope hunt must be a solitary mission. Hence, I figured out exactly when the full moon would fall and planned my trip to Wyoming. My nana grew up in the little hovel of Cheyenne so I ventured there first.
I scouted for days. Again, as I said, jackalopes migrate so it was hit or miss as to if they were around. Fortunately, I met with a discrete group of jackalope hunters in the area. Gathered in a local greasy spoon so dark it looked like the sun never rose, the group was hesitant to talk to me at first. An outsider, they figured, that is until I flashed my permit. Suddenly, each hunter yelled to talk over the next; each giving as much advice as they could. One fellow allowed me to hunt on his track of land known for jackalope activity.
In the nights that followed, I baited and set up my blind. Baiting is relatively simple, as jackalope kryptonite is little bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch with whole milk and a side of zebra muffins. The zebra must be freshly harvested, within the last two weeks. In the same respect, if the milk is anything less than whole, the horned beasts will see it as a threat to their fat reserves, leave the area and never return.
My bait was set, now all I had to do was wait. On the third morning before the full moon, I set out to sit in my blind. Normal deer or waterfowl hunters know that blinds conceal by utilizing natural vegetation. However, these edifices will just spook the jackalopes, so the adage, “more obvious the better” is best strictly followed. My first jackalope blind was a novice approach; its lime-green, pink polka dotted façade could be seen from space.
Jumping at every snapped twig, I barely blinked as the hours ticked by, slowly but surely toward midnight. As night fell and my little bowls of CTC began disappearing in the dark, the sound of jackalopes resonated through the woods. Their screeches, whimpers and belches were heard long before their grotesque forms scuttled into view.
It is imperative that when one hunts jackalopes, one must think like a jackalope. Therefore, I ate some CTCs. This is a tactic employed by many a hunter, as the noise acts as an audible signal to put the jackalopes at ease and illustrate that the cereal is not poisoned. Once the herd took note of my signal, they set upon the food. Thankfully, the herd was small enough and they ate every morsel. I set out a large food plot in order to put the animals in a food coma which worked like clockwork. As soon as the last scrap of zebra was consumed, each jackalope stopped where they stood and fell asleep.
It is mentioned in the permit that one should use tranquilizer pellets and a slingshot to bag them. This tactic went out of fashion years ago, as estimating exactly how much tranquilizer to use was tricky as was trying to signal one out who may or may not be female without scattering the rest of the group. My over-feeding of the entire group works better given that I have a couple of moments to chose a male out of the group. Which is exactly what I did.
Once my adrenaline stopped pumping I took a gander at my freshly harvested, supposedly “mythical” creature. I knew my granddad was looking down from the happy hunting ground, proud that his granddaughter finally got herself a jackalope.
Well now that I’ve dispelled the rumors and told my story, I feel a sense of inner peace I’ve been searching for since I began hunting the beasts. And even more so given my public audience.
I do hope that you, Kari’s readership, will explore the more mythical creatures amongst you and begin to dispel rumors even as they hatch. Simply because that while you may think you know everything about something or someone, it may shock you what lays beneath the surface.
With that, I bid you adieu. Until next time, dear friends.