PREVIOUSLY: Startled by a squawky voice coming from above, Lacy looked up—and was stunned to silence.
There was a big—really big—crow flying overhead.
“A trained crow?”
“No one trained me,” He squawked, “I’m as smart as you are—perhaps smarter.”
Lacy was no dummy, her IQ near genius—she quickly calculated the distance and speed of the bird’s flight, raised her custom Winchester ’73—and shot off one of the big crow’s wing feather tips, “The next round goes through you head!”
She raised the rifle again, “This one will take your head off, crow.” Continue reading