I had just settled down to pen a story about a man-eating lion stalking a hunter through darkest Africa.

The hunter was in turn tracking a wounded water buffalo and the dense vegetation was going to bring all three into close contact at the watering hole.  Clearly, death lurked in the tall grass. The lion was ready to pounce. Then my phone chirped.

Phones don’t ring anymore and rather than have to race into the kitchen to grab it before it stops ringing you can now look at the number and decide whether you want to talk.  It was a turkey-hunting buddy named JC so I took the call.

JC then proceeded to tell me about his hunt.  He began with the details about waking before sunrise, stopping at the Waffle House and flirting with the waitress who called him Sugar.  I assured him she calls everyone Sugar and to just focus on the turkey hunt.

He went on to describe how he had scouted, used locator calls, set up his decoy and waited for sunrise.  Apparently the deer were all over him since they were out of season.

Then another hunter stalked his decoy and he had to wave him off.  JC asked if shooting hen decoys when hens were out of season was illegal and I told him that I didn’t think so.  Stupidity is rarely illegal.  At least, not often enough.

Then, during a lull in the action, he sensed something unusual and realized he had picked up a tick.  This tick had lodged in an unlikely spot north of some extremities and south of others, if you get my drift.  How it navigated the layers and repellant made me think it would have done well as a man-eating lion in the jungles of darkest Africa stalking a hunter.  Perhaps better, since this tick caught one.

After that, JC apparently took a lunch break, set up his stand on another site, and waited until the turkeys went to roost.  Having put in a full day, he now felt obligated to call me up and let me know how it went.

Although the details were interesting, JC could have just as easily summed it up as follows.

“Hey Jim,” JC would say.

“Yep?”

“Went turkey hunting today.”

“Get anything?”

“Nope.”

“OK, see ya.”

“You too.”

Had he condensed his day and shortened his call, I might not have been so distracted and could have finished that story about the man-eating lion. I always hate to leave a hunter, a man-eating lion and a wounded water buffalo in the jungle while death lurks.

In any event, this was almost a lion story.