Three Amigos Try Dove Hunting
Re-Phil calls Wednesday evening wanting to go dove hunting. For the past 20 years, Wednesday has been Date Night for me and mama. You'd think he'd know that. You'd also think I'm not going to give up time with Sandy for time with him...
Anyway, we make plans to hunt Thursday, in lieu of attending our monthly poker party. Davey decides he can join us. We all hit the sunflowers on the Seager Ranch Pond.
We set up our two Mojo decoys by the pond, sit in the sunflowers, and pop open some brewskis.
Eric Holder's Fast and Furious ain't got nothing on us. There must have been 100 doves flying around for the first five minutes. Of which, we managed to bag about 7.
We all sat in a line and told stories for 2.5 hours. We were loud, hazing each other over missed shots (which Re-Phil had the most of, BTW), and laughed until we hurt. We really weren't "hunting" per se, but just enjoying the out-of-doors and good friends. We did end up with 23 birds by the time we called it a night.
Since we hunted last week-end, my camo t-shirt is in the laundry (fermenting something awful). So, I go to my hunting closet to procure another t-shirt. I find ONE and it's a LARGE. You gotta be kidding me! I must own somewhere N of half a dozen camo shirts and there are ZERO in there??? Names start flying - Nick, Eric, Kathy, Alex...someone, or multiple someones, have run off with my camo t-shirts. Oh, well, the doves don't care...
And since it was H-O-T, I wore shorts - tan shorts. But that didn't stop Davey and Re-Phil from being insensitive and giving me an Indian name, White Pant. Oh the grief I caught. But you know what, it was a good call (that they admitted later) because I was more comfortable than they were.
A few photos of the evening.
Anyway, we make plans to hunt Thursday, in lieu of attending our monthly poker party. Davey decides he can join us. We all hit the sunflowers on the Seager Ranch Pond.
We set up our two Mojo decoys by the pond, sit in the sunflowers, and pop open some brewskis.
Eric Holder's Fast and Furious ain't got nothing on us. There must have been 100 doves flying around for the first five minutes. Of which, we managed to bag about 7.
We all sat in a line and told stories for 2.5 hours. We were loud, hazing each other over missed shots (which Re-Phil had the most of, BTW), and laughed until we hurt. We really weren't "hunting" per se, but just enjoying the out-of-doors and good friends. We did end up with 23 birds by the time we called it a night.
Since we hunted last week-end, my camo t-shirt is in the laundry (fermenting something awful). So, I go to my hunting closet to procure another t-shirt. I find ONE and it's a LARGE. You gotta be kidding me! I must own somewhere N of half a dozen camo shirts and there are ZERO in there??? Names start flying - Nick, Eric, Kathy, Alex...someone, or multiple someones, have run off with my camo t-shirts. Oh, well, the doves don't care...
And since it was H-O-T, I wore shorts - tan shorts. But that didn't stop Davey and Re-Phil from being insensitive and giving me an Indian name, White Pant. Oh the grief I caught. But you know what, it was a good call (that they admitted later) because I was more comfortable than they were.
A few photos of the evening.
White Pant - also fat man in a little shirt.
Note the camo shoes though!
And yes, I killed two birds one-handed.
Somewhere in this photo are the other two "hunters"
and they're doing the 'Dave Jones' pose.
Supposedly, it makes you look taller.
Comments
Post a Comment