Many years ago, my late father and a buddy were hunting pheasants on preserve in Chester County, PA. As they were working through a field of cut corn, they looked up and saw a fox running toward them from the top of a hill. Dad quickly decided that the owner of the preserve would certainly appreciate his taking the pheasant eater out of circulation. Dad always carried two 16 gauge shells containing 1-1/8 ounce of 4s for such an event and he had time to break the gun, pull the existing loads and insert the 4s. When the fox got into range, he shot it, killing it.
Not ten seconds after he killed the fox, the pack of hounds crested the hill. Chester County was (and may still be) the home of a pretty upscale, very politically connected, fox hunting club and Dad had just ended their hunt. Thinking quickly, he handed his shotgun to his buddy, grabbed the fox by the tail, swung it around his head a couple of times and threw it as far as he could. Then he and his buddy beat feet through the nearest hedgerow.
When they looked back, they saw the dog pack milling around the spot where the fox had died and shortly after that the pack was joined by the horses and riders. Dad and his buddy decided to hunt somewhere else on the preserve the rest of the day.
We laughed at that story for years. I still have the shotgun and two more old Remington paper 4s for it.
