There’s nothing quite as remarkable as shooting expensive bullets at cheap animals.

Story and Photography by Bob Zaiglin

It was a cold, dank, cloudy December morning as my good friend David Shashy and I high-racked our way over some of the richest deer habitat in Webb County, glassing some exceptional yet young bucks, but none of the trophy-racked older deer we knew inhabited the sea of brush.

In order to take a break, we pulled off the side of the bladed ranch road, descended the top drive, and made our way down an overgrown sendero towards an opening inundated by prickly pear cactus.  As we entered the pear flat, a number of hogs exhibiting a variety of colors could be seen rooting for grubs and tubers.  Once confident that no deer were around, we stealthily picked our way around and through the maze of spine-bearing pear towards the undisturbed pigs.  I am not sure what it is about hogs that flips the switch of hunters, but the excitement in David’s eyes gleamed with emotion as he knew we were about to pop a few caps at the range marauders.  When we got to within 30 yards or so of the animals, we opened up on them, dropping several where they stood while blasting futilely at those that scrambled for cover.  Once tranquility returned to the thorn-scrub, we walked up to the largest sow that was solid white with black blotches, and as we stared down at the animal, I made a comment that remains with me to this day.