Chupacabra Sighting in Peshtigo! Snipes, Too!

Far away in the mystical lands of Peshtigo, Wis., existed a man named Andrew. He certainly was not the most straight-laced guy I've ever known, but he was my grandpa.

Armed with his loaded rifle and his noisy guard dogs, he defended his 80-plus acres of God’s green earth against predators and pests. And his farm was always full of life. Each time I went to visit, he'd have varying quantities of chickens, cows, horses, goats and pigs. 

Grandpa was so proud of me. He told me so during one of my visits. He said I was the best 9-year-old farmhand he ever, so much so that all the chores were done quickly and there was nothing left to do.

Grandpa promised he would make it up to me, though. He was going to teach me how to hunt! “Hunt what?” you might ask. Snipe, of course!

Armed with rubber gloves, a Ziploc bag and a flashlight, I was told to meander my way towards the goat barn and wait for the sun to start setting. Why the Ziploc bag? I didn’t know, but I was certain I would figure it out when I finally got to see a snipe, whatever a snipe was.

It sure was creepy out in the tall grasses. I heard rustling once in a while, but nothing came of it. Each night, after an unsuccessful night of hunting, I'd head inside, brush my teeth and go to bed, visions of catching a snipe for grandpa playing through my head. Tomorrow will be my day, I'd think, I just know it.

Morning would come, and I'd duck and bow feverishly while gathering eggs in the chicken coop for breakfast. The hens really didn’t like me in there, let me tell you. All I knew is I was going to make sure Grandma had enough eggs for breakfast because Grandpa got real cranky without his big ol' feast every morning.

After breakfast, I learned that when you ask Grandpa over and over and over and OVER again about snipe hunting, he would reveal a few more snipe hunting secrets to you. Did you know you can hunt snipes during the day, too? Yahoo!

My Grandpa, he was such a smart and generous man, he even pointed to the other side of the farm yard where he saw them last. He told me to keep looking over there, all day if need be. 

Snipes can be a tricky, but I wasn't scared. I had my rubber gloves and Ziploc bag with me.

I never did catch any snipes, not even during subsequent visits to the farm, and I just didn’t know why. One day, Grandpa finally confessed: snipes aren't real; going "snipe hunting" was a “rite of passage.”

Even after all those wasted hours, I couldn't be mad at Grandpa. It taught me a lot about patience, let me tell you! 

Many years have gone by and I now have children of my own that I used take to Grandpa’s farm every few months. I loved to tell Grandpa every little detail of my day. Grandpa always said he just couldn’t get enough of my potty-training stories. I would help Grandpa in the barn when I visited and he told me that time passes so much quickly when I stand side by side with him sharing EVERY detail of my day. 

One day, a noise came out of the goat barn. Grandpa grabbed his chest like only he does when he's in a panic. One of his goats is in trouble!

“Oh, no!” Grandpa said. “It’s those pesky dog-like chupacabra creatures that we have been hearing about on the news lately. They have been causing quite a stir in the goat barn the past few months.”

Ready to avenge my Grandpa, I ran off to save his goats from the chupacabra. Now is my time! I am going to finally earn my keep! 

Like clockwork, each day as Grandpa and I chatted, he would hear the rustling noise of the chupacabra and I'd go running to the door. Nothing. 

Man! Chupacabras are worse than snipes! And snipes aren’t even real!

Grandpa is gone now, but he will always hold a special spot in my heart. I just wish that once I would have been able to rid the pest that kept bothering him at his farm. Just once.