I was hunting pronghorns in Wyoming with my two brothers and a close friend. At lunch a prairie dog raised his head quite a ways out. The landowner wanted those dead. OK, I’ll help out. Everyone said “no way.” I rested my Remington 700 Custom Mountain Rifle (.280 Rem) on a nearby wooden fence. Every time I put my eye to the scope, the dog would go in his hole. Finally my younger brother said he would get him up long enough for a shot. He let out a sharp whistle and that dog stood on his hind legs. Two seconds later I squeezed the trigger. They all said I missed. Really? 258 long strides later I held up a prairie dog missing its head.