ext_73077 ([identity profile] hrj.livejournal.com) wrote in [personal profile] hrj 2008-06-28 05:45 am (UTC)

(Ok, darn, I guess I'll have to substitute item 3.0 in for item 1 ... unless and until some other doily-maker comes forward.)

So here's how it happened (although this is better told in person). It was a Beaconsgate Boar Hunt, held at a Boy Scout camp in El Cerrito -- a wooded area up in the hills, but surrounded by a residential area.

For the boar hunt, a heavy fighter armed with two maces plays the boar; the hunters are heavy fighters armed with spears. I don't know if it's always been consistent, but sometimes you have unarmored hounds -- the hounds can track the boar and signal its position to the hunters by baying. That year, I was one of the hounds. During a break between hunts, someone started throwing a stick for the hounds to chase and retrieve.

It was a beautiful stick. It was a glorious stick. And despite what all those other hounds thought, it was MY stick. There was an *ahem* altercation with regard to the stick's ownership ... completed entirely "in persona". We were evidently a bit more realistic-sounding than we expected because one of the neighbors reported the "dog fight" to the local police, who sent a patrol car around to check things out.

Fortunately, they had an expansive sense of humor, when all had been explained.

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