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I was pheasant hunting in slew in one of my father in laws fields. The field draw was waist high grass. There were about half a dozen of us with shotguns and a few kids, plus a few dogs. We had knocked a couple pheasants down and they were runners. We got to a bottle neck and were expecting things were going to get busy. I took a step and my foot came down on something soft, but firm. Ok’ I just stepped on one of the wounded pheasants. I reach down and part the grass and I see black and white. Shoot I just stepped on a skunk and have it pinned between my boot and the ground. I yelled skunk, I’ve stepped on a skunk get over here and shoot the bastard. My brother in law ran over and I jumped off and he gave it hell. Needless to say I rode home in the back of the pick up. But honestly I only got a small dose of spray. I was more worried about my mini-dachund that was somewhere around me, than myself. He was one hell of a bird dog.
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