Six or eight years ago I was following my son on a dark night down in Real County, Texas when I saw his brake lights come on and stay on.
When I caught up to him, I found he'd run over a herd of feral hogs. There were four or five of them (memory fades a bit) in various states of injury, unable to get away. I put them down with my Argentine Colt .45. Only one took more than one round of hardball and that was my fault, not the hog's hard head.
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