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hunting stories

Discussion in 'Hunting' started by mod700, Aug 7, 2007.

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  1. mod700

    mod700 Member

    Aug 6, 2007
    this may have already been done before but i would like to hear and share some stories about hunting trips or shots at animals that didnt quite go according to plan....because i have plenty

    One of mine happened a few years ago. i was with my dad on the way to the woods (since its an hour away we ride together as much as possible) one cold morning. ganted, in mississippi we dont have many mornings that are below freezing, but this was one of them. we were getting everything together to go into the woods when i remembered that i stuck my coveralls into the washer the night before and (still being mostly asleep) forgot to get them out of the dryer the next morning. after spending the next few hours shaking the top of the tree i was in and thinking about my nice warm coveralls over forty miles away in my nice warm house i decided to make sure i had EVERYTHING i needed before leaving the house.
  2. sm

    sm member

    Dec 22, 2002
    Between black coffee, and shiftn' gears
    I am 5 months old on my very first Dove Hunt.
    I don't remember a whole lot, It is said wax ear plugs cannot be put into a kids ears faster than he can take them out. Grandma wised up and just used her hands.
    Oh, amazing how much sticky a 5 month can get when the dawgies bring the donut holes over ...

    Year later...
    I am 17 months old
    I look good in my little Khaki britches, little olive shirt and cowboy boots like the Men wore.
    Wax ear plugs seemed to stay in better too...

    Dove Hunting?
    Hey a kid could get used to Chocolate Milk and Donuts for breakfast. :D
    Now at this early age for me, folks shooting was a part of my life.
    Dawgs were a part of my life.
    Still there was something really special about this Dove Hunting, I could tell from the way folks been itchin' at the bit.

    Oh I knew what a dove was, I was real good at scaring them out of the yard and doing my hands like big people shooting stuff.

    Now my Mentors and Elders were good shots with anything; meaning they were also shotgunners.

    Once I got playing with the dawgies out of my system ...
    I am supposed to stand there and don't run off .

    So Grandma shoots this dove coming straight at us, and this dove is going to fall right at her feet .
    No it wasn't, it was over to her left a little bit where I was.
    I figured I would just catch it. I mean the other folks had been doing this, I am a big boy so...CLUNK !

    "Young 'un!" Grandma says opening the action and laying her shotgun down.
    I got bloody, and this damn dove won't quit flopping.
    Now others close to us run over to see about me.
    I have gone Rodeo with this dove chasing it on the ground since it got loose.
    Now I got the big folks going from being concerned to laughing themselves silly.
    Bloody, dusty and by golly I got it!
    It is still flopping!

    "Ring its neck!"
    Okay I had seen this done, on chickens , just "wring its neck" idid not register.
    I got a Mentor getting a dove out of a bucket of felled doves showing me.
    So Finally got this neck wrung and went to plop in the bucket.

    Dawgies are faster than Grandma's with a kerchief. Not sure what all is in dawgie slobber, but it cleans a kid up pretty good.

    I went right back to "helping" , I like the part helping the dawgies retrieve when I was allowed to.
    "Got the bird"
    "Dogs accounted for"
    "Where is that damn kid!"

    My cuts would bleed a bit from time to time...
    Come BBQ after the shoot, and folks talking...
    "I thought Young'un got cut?"
    "Who could tell with all that BBQ all over that face?"

    Hey, this Dove Hunting stuff?
    No wonder big folks got to itchin' at the bit.
    Boy was I happy to hear this was a Tradition and we were supposed to do this every year!

  3. bensdad

    bensdad Member

    Mar 7, 2007
    My wife and I were doing a pre-season pheasant hunt, getting the dog and ourselves ready, at a hunting club. She was pretty new to hunting, as this was maybe her second season.

    An hour or so after we started, she shoots down a flushed bird. She gets to the drop spot before the dog, and she picks up the bird. Wrong bird. The one she picked up had been napping the whole time with its head under its wing. When it woke up to my poor wife holding it by one leg all hell broke loose.

    I was screaming, "Let it go! Let it go!" She was just plain screaming. It was a big rooster, and I'm tellin you that bird went def-con-4 on her. The poor woman had a loaded gun in one hand and a crazy bird in the other. When she finally let it go, I gave it 20 yds or so, then let fly with a load of #6.
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