|
Giz, thanks for sharing this. I will always remember my last hunt with my father. He was developing some health problems that later turned out to be cancer, but we had a phenomenal pheasant hunt one cold, windy day. My retriever pointed for the first and only time in his 11 seasons of hunting and we busted 6 roosters out of a field corner like a covey of quail. One flew right into Dad's face and he hollered and flailed at the thing with his shotgun barrel til he could get a shot. Dog didn't know where to go first. I knocked one down while laughing at the whole circus. We sat in the sun, out of the cold wind next to a big round haybale, and laughed about it till Dad felt strong enough to walk back. Must be about 10 years ago. God, I miss him. At least we've got our memories.
Take care
|