Hogs Gone Wild, explanation please

dkees

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I watched a segment of the "Hogs Gone Wild" series last night on, I think, the Animal channel.

I've never hunted feral hogs but have heard they are nasty. The show concerned locations in Texas, Florida, and Hawaii. Texas - endangering cattle on a 6,000 acre ranch. Florida- invading a upscale, gated community endangering pets, people and tearing up the landscape. Hawaii - ruining the native plants and landscape.

Now, the hunters show up with dogs, GPS, ropes, knives, pick-up trucks, and all terrain vehicles. They spend hours building traps and once the hog(s) is in the trap they use ropes to wrestle it and hog tie it and throw it in the pick-up truck. This takes 2 guys who work themselves to death besides risking life and limb. This style took place in Hawaii.

In Texas the hunters with all terrain vehicles, spot lights, knives, and dogs find a hog wallow showing recent hog activity. They wait until they spot a hog(s) and turn the dogs loose who chase the hogs to ground where the hunters tie it up after stabbing it in the heart with a knife. One of the dogs, a Great Dane, was injured. When they spotted the 350 lb. hog it was standing in the middle of nowhere.

In Florida the hunters cruised the neighborhood until they found hog activity and turned the dogs loose. They then chased hogs and dogs through yards and underbrush until they captured it in the middle of a street. It was tied up and thrown in their pick up truck and they then left the neighborhood (hunters).

Now, in Texas and Hawaii why didn't they just shoot the damn things? I can understand a different approach in a populated area but for cryin' out loud. Why all the expense, trouble, risk to themselves and the dogs, to catch an animal that there are millions of who are tearing up the countryside with the capability of spreading anthrax as well as other diseases?

Have I missed something.....what say the hog hunters, is this the way it's done?
 
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west texas hogs

we take 7 to 8 hogs a season(deer season).we shoot on sight..we only keep the pigglet's..the adult hogs we drag to a distant pile to feed the buzzards.
 
If it's on the Animal Channel, then it's all about saving the poor animal, because, of course, it's man's fault that this is going on. Capture the poor critter and take it far away from man and release it into the wild (not quite sure why they'd let someone stick a knife in that poor poor piggy, in the Texas episode - hurting the animal doesn't seem to fit).

In real life - shoot it.
 
'Cause it's TV and the bunny-huggers might get upset ? Can't see how risking the dogs, pizzin off the pig and then stabbin' him is a whole lot kinder . . . .:p guns are verboten even for vermin, apparently.
 
Brazos county Texas is being overrun with wild hogs. Most destructive critters I know. Out here, I shoot them on sight. If hunting with dogs, the dog better know what he's doing. A big hog or hogs will tear a dog up. Never heard of anyone stabbing a hog to death. TV, go figure.
 
It's entertainment. Like when Pawn Star's Rick calls in an expert to tell him how much something is worth before he buys it.


Charlie
 
I can answer that . First of all, most of what was aired on "Animal Channel" was total hyped-up BS. In TEXAS, where I trap and hunt feral hogs, there is not much, if any, dog running (maybe because we love our dogs too much.)There is a lot of hunting with guns, but it's mostly a night sport - they're nocturnal in our parts. Mostly, it's trapping. I have five portable traps and one corral trap (65' x 35'). When I have hogs in the traps, and that is nearly every week, I shoot them and then remove them from the trap. A person to attempt what was shown with the knives, ropes, etc. has a death wish. As for size, in the ten years that I've been doing it, the largest was close to 500 lbs - the average adult runs around 150 - 300. Those under 150 lbs are cleaned and eaten - the rest left for coyotes (they're hunted also). Words cannot describe the damage they do, and they reproduce faster than we can trap/shoot them.
 
I've yet to go hunting with my bow, but if I do it'll be for those nasty pigs! Not even native to north america, yet have run amuck in virtually every state.
 
I watched also but on the Discovery channel. I agree with the OP though, makes no sense to risk so much when shooting would be way easier and safer.
 
Pure TV,yes people do hunt with dogs,yes they do hunt with knives and spears. But to stretch it out to make 44 minutes of TV you don't shoot them like in the real world. This show is not unlike all the other "reality" stuff that is staged for TV-just hogs instead of loggers,truckers,fisherman,pawn shops,repo services and chefs/bakers. It's kinda like Top Shot without the drama!
 
I am not sure if this is the answer; but if the meat is going to be sold the animal has to be captured live and slaughtered at an USDA inspected slaughter house. If for personal use wild game rules apply.
 
My first and only stint of being 'Great White Hunter' tookplace about 48 years ago. I was 15. A family friend was having a terrible time with a feral hog. All we knew it was big, and it had acquired a taste for chickens. The friend had his chicken coop wiped out, and his elderly neighbor was having trouble with the same hog. Next farm down. So I was hired out to kill it. Dad had ground rules. Mainly, I wasn't allowed on the ground. At all, ever.

My hunting position was up in the hayloft of the barn. I had a light, my then new 20 gauge 870, and my trusty 8mm Mauser 98. It was the weapon of choice. The old guy (everyone's old when you're 15) bought some additional hens and fixed his coop from the earlier marauding by the hog. Chickens make noise. And when they're being chased and eaten, they make even more.

About the 2nd night up in the loft there was a gawd awful racket. I threw the lever and the entire barnyard was aglow. It wasn't hard to follow the action. The swaucking and grunting told me just where it was.

So I did what I thought I was supposed to do. I shot the hog. Then again, and again, and again. Dad told me not to even bother with head shots, go for the boiler room. Didn't matter if it was a clean kill, a messy one, or a lingering one. The goal was a dead pig, just how it came about wasn't of much concern.

Kind of flys in the face of the clean kill stuff I'd had beaten into my thick skull, but I was told there are exceptions.

The hog didn't last long with that much lead passing thru. I was shooting softpoints, handloads. I really think the first shot would have done for it, but not wanting to incur the wrath of my father, our family friend, or the farmer, I kept on shooting. But when the magazine ran dry, I didn't bother with a second stripper (do I dare say clip here on the forum? Well, it was.)

Because I still had a clear view if Mr Piggie, and he wasn't moving, I decided I should do what I'd read about with bears and lions. Time was on my side. I wasn't wounded, didn't have to go anyplace, and I had a cooler full of pop and a bunch of potato chips and pretzels. So I "pigged out". And watched. Hours later and about sunrise, I figured it was time to violate the ground rule. I took the shotgun. Mr. Piggie was real dead.

The farmer had already come out, but he only came back out when I pounded on the door. He was smiling. Got the tractor going and slid the pig on an old sign. Vernors, I think. A roadsign type for advertising. Then we drug it over to the barn where he had a hoist. We got it up in the air so he could back his flatbed truck under it. Then we lowered it. Big pig. At the packing house it was about 700#. Just a local hog that escaped its pen and went wild. At that weight, it went where it wanted, including the sides or doors of chicken coops.

And I was the hero! :) The packing house guy said there were a lot of farmers up Eagle Creek who would be happy to hear of my success. I didn't want any sausage. Dad said it would be tough and nasty. But I did want my just pay. All the leftover soft drinks, plus a 6 pack of Barq's a week till school started. (if you figure it out at maybe 1963 prices, it wasn't a kings ransom.) But it probably cost them $20, total. And I got treated to free ammo for the 8mm. It wasn't part of the deal, and I didn't expect it. But a gun shop near here had cases of the stuff. I was mysteriously given well over 100 rounds, all MilSurp. Beggars can't be choosers.

I still haven't figured out why my success wasn't turned into a career or any repeat engagements. Such is life.
 
In Germany I believe wild boar are traditionaly hunted with dogs, a "Boar spear" and short sword. Maybe someone was trying to copy this, kinda sorta?
 
In Germany I believe wild boar are traditionaly hunted with dogs, a "Boar spear" and short sword. Maybe someone was trying to copy this, kinda sorta?

Do a search on German Boar Spears.Nasty weapons.I can imagine the hunt with them.I gotta do some more research on this.I think I need one to protect the stein collection.
 
DG, I think COLD STEEL still sells a boar spear, not that any normal human being wants to get that close. I've also heard of the knife version, e.g. the "pig sticker". I prefer Dick's method.
 
My first and only stint of being 'Great White Hunter' tookplace about 48 years ago. I was 15. A family friend was having a terrible time with a feral hog. All we knew it was big, and it had acquired a taste for chickens. The friend had his chicken coop wiped out, and his elderly neighbor was having trouble with the same hog. Next farm down. So I was hired out to kill it. Dad had ground rules. Mainly, I wasn't allowed on the ground. At all, ever.

My hunting position was up in the hayloft of the barn. I had a light, my then new 20 gauge 870, and my trusty 8mm Mauser 98. It was the weapon of choice. The old guy (everyone's old when you're 15) bought some additional hens and fixed his coop from the earlier marauding by the hog. Chickens make noise. And when they're being chased and eaten, they make even more.

About the 2nd night up in the loft there was a gawd awful racket. I threw the lever and the entire barnyard was aglow. It wasn't hard to follow the action. The swaucking and grunting told me just where it was.

So I did what I thought I was supposed to do. I shot the hog. Then again, and again, and again. Dad told me not to even bother with head shots, go for the boiler room. Didn't matter if it was a clean kill, a messy one, or a lingering one. The goal was a dead pig, just how it came about wasn't of much concern.

Kind of flys in the face of the clean kill stuff I'd had beaten into my thick skull, but I was told there are exceptions.

The hog didn't last long with that much lead passing thru. I was shooting softpoints, handloads. I really think the first shot would have done for it, but not wanting to incur the wrath of my father, our family friend, or the farmer, I kept on shooting. But when the magazine ran dry, I didn't bother with a second stripper (do I dare say clip here on the forum? Well, it was.)

Because I still had a clear view if Mr Piggie, and he wasn't moving, I decided I should do what I'd read about with bears and lions. Time was on my side. I wasn't wounded, didn't have to go anyplace, and I had a cooler full of pop and a bunch of potato chips and pretzels. So I "pigged out". And watched. Hours later and about sunrise, I figured it was time to violate the ground rule. I took the shotgun. Mr. Piggie was real dead.

The farmer had already come out, but he only came back out when I pounded on the door. He was smiling. Got the tractor going and slid the pig on an old sign. Vernors, I think. A roadsign type for advertising. Then we drug it over to the barn where he had a hoist. We got it up in the air so he could back his flatbed truck under it. Then we lowered it. Big pig. At the packing house it was about 700#. Just a local hog that escaped its pen and went wild. At that weight, it went where it wanted, including the sides or doors of chicken coops.

And I was the hero! :) The packing house guy said there were a lot of farmers up Eagle Creek who would be happy to hear of my success. I didn't want any sausage. Dad said it would be tough and nasty. But I did want my just pay. All the leftover soft drinks, plus a 6 pack of Barq's a week till school started. (if you figure it out at maybe 1963 prices, it wasn't a kings ransom.) But it probably cost them $20, total. And I got treated to free ammo for the 8mm. It wasn't part of the deal, and I didn't expect it. But a gun shop near here had cases of the stuff. I was mysteriously given well over 100 rounds, all MilSurp. Beggars can't be choosers.

I still haven't figured out why my success wasn't turned into a career or any repeat engagements. Such is life.

Awesome story, Dick. I really enjoyed the way you told it.

Down here in Tennessee, we hunt the hawgs with hounds, or spot and stalk.

We just shoot 'em, preferably in the head, or the boiler room.

We leave the "pig stickin" to the Rambo types. :D

-Bearman
 
I prefer Dick's method.

Me too.Great story.

Don't get me wrong,I'd never do any hunting with one.
I think a piece like one I saw on a quick search would look cool over my steins.I don't know if I could put a replica next to my collection.2000 dollars for a spearhead from 1600.???I'll probably do without.But you never know.;)
 
When I hunted wild boar in Germany in the mid-70s they were traditionally hunted from a stand, with centerfire rifle, usually 7mm or larger.

In Texas, there are a few fools that try to stab feral hogs with knives and bayonets. They are a distinct minority. Most of us shoot them with our favorite deer rifle.

For real excitement you need to be speeding down the local highway at about 70mph, and in the dark, when a 300 lb. porker decides to commit vehicular suicide by running out directly in front of you. The damage caused to car or PU is not pretty, thats assuming the collision doesn't cause you to run off the road and into the nearest telephone pole. It happened to my next door neighbor.

The varmits cause untold damage to crops, and in some parts of the state, vehicle-hog strikes are becoming almost as common as deer strikes.
 
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