Y’all aren’t going to believe this, but last night, I killed a 180lb sow with my bow. In the middle of a strip mall parking lot, during search and rescue operations here in Houston. Yes, you read that correctly.

I had just arrived with my buddy Hector, to assist local citizens and first responders with high water rescues and general relief work. As I was sitting in my truck, waiting for my shift to begin on the jon boat we were using to extricate stranded residents from the flooded Bear Creek neighborhood, I was attempting to catch a few winks. I had barely drifted off when I was startled awake by Hector, who was urgently telling me that there was a wild hog right by us.

Groggy and disoriented, I felt the surge of adrenaline hitting my body as my mind processed what I had just been told, and I put on my release. Now, I know what you’re thinking – “Who the hell brings their bow when they drive into the immediate aftermath of a hurricane?!”. Me. I do. Because Texas.

So, I hopped out of the truck, grabbed my bow from the back seat, set my pin to 20yds, nocked an arrow, and started walking in the direction Hector had directed me. Not ten seconds later, I see this big ol’ sow splash her way out of the banks of the floodwater, and begin to trot across Highway 6, right by a group of six LEO’s. I follow the pig – arrow nocked – right on by them as I creep across the highway, where the pig has now entered a strip mall parking lot. I’m pretty sure that they were thinking “To hell with this, if I use my pistol I’ll have a hundred pages of paperwork to do…let’s just watch and see how this plays out!”

So, now I have a crowd of a dozen people following behind me, as the pig corners itself in the parking lot of the strip mall and starts getting more agitated and aggressive. My new buddy and fellow rescue volunteer Travis is close behind me and hollers at me to draw. I come to full draw as the pig begins to trot by me nervously, follow her with my pin, and touch off the release with 18 yards between us. BOOM. The sound of the impact sounds like a 2×4 hitting a side of beef, and she instantly looks dazed. She rams the plate glass window of the bridal shop she is in front of twice, turns toward me, and — sort of like the five point palm exploding heart technique from Kill Bill — makes it about five steps before keeling over, dead.

The best part of this story is that after staying up until 4am doing all of the processing of the meat, our evacuees at the church I’m working out of here in Cypress will have fresh carnitas to help warm their spirits after the terrible week they’ve had to endure.

I’m so thankful that I was in the right place at the right time, to be able to serve the community, neutralize a threat, and help evangelize the virtues that we hunters hold so dear, as stewards, protectors and providers.