FullShilling

Doug stood on his tree perch statue still his old faithful hunting rifle rested in his hands familiar, No deer had wonder in to his line of sight all day, but he had been watching a large black bear meander his way across the field, it now rested next to a sand stone not quite the same size.  Doug knew the stone well he had hunted here often, and by it he knew the size of the bear and he was a big guy. Fresh meat and clean water had served Doug well into his fifty some years in this world, he had been a hunter from an early age and had moved from British Columbia to Ontario at an undisclosed time. He told me once how to tell Black bear shit