Went to the hill country this past weekend to get set up for bow season this year. It was blistering hot and dry (102 degrees). I decided to set up my saddle in a shaded cedar tree on a water hole and practice for the season. A monster porker (Deuce and a half) came in to wallow in the mud and drink. After watching him and waiting for a clear shot for about 5 minutes the ol Elvis leg started and the jugular started throbbing. When he stepped out to give me a clear shot my bow (named Esau) was already drawn....... The mud donkey dropped his nose right on my trail in and gave off a grunt, I knew my time was limited so I let one fly. The G5 montec Hit him right in she shoulder, rolled the point and penetrated like a bull gerbil. The ol nasty schnarler laughed and grinned, shook out my arrow as if it were a horse fly and trotted off. After composing My emotions I took down my mobile hunting setup, packed up my gear and walked back to the hunting camp with my head hung low. I had about a half of a mile walk back to camp scolding myself “its all about shot placement”, “you got to pick a spot”..... the list goes on. I have been practicing and the shot was a chip shot, but sometimes the ol Elvis leg gets the best of us. Some of you may call it the Feva. Whatever it is called, I love it!!! And I hate it!!