A Hunting We Will Go
It's been quite a number of years since I went dove hunting with my brother-in-law, Jim. The first day of dove season used to be a big event in this part of the world. I don't think it carries the same weight nowadays since there seem to be fewer dove. Hmmmm? Anyway, a proper dove hunt requires a large field with plenty of people, plenty of shotgun shells and plenty of dove. Generally speaking, if you don't have enough of any one of those things, it probably won't be a good dove hunt.
Throughout man's history, a good hunt has been the source of many memories. Consider cave paintings that show men hunting animals eons ago. Also consider the fact that hunters like to sit around telling stories. Hunting, for whatever reason, seems to be a bonding experience. For the purpose of this post, let's not get off on the subject of whether hunting is right or wrong.
I have plenty of memories from the hunting trips I have taken in my life. Not so much the actual hunting part, but the human interaction that takes place. The unexpected tale that doesn't include the plight of the prey, but that of the hunter. Like the time Jim's pants split completely apart. Not just a tear in the seat but actual transformation into a rather odd skirt. Another incident that comes to mind was when Donald, a close acquaintance of Jim's, discharged his 12 guage shotgun in the cab of Jim's truck. The resulting hole in the floor was about two inches to the right of the accelerator where Jim's foot was feverishly throttling the Ford F-150, better known as "The Bad Eight", through a plowed field.
However, my favorite story happened about twenty years ago at a fairly large dove hunt not far from here. There was a fellow named Terry that worked on the farm with Jim. Terry took his two little boys with him that day and they went toward the back of the dove field finding a good spot under a tree. Not that sitting under a tree is a good place to hunt, but it does offer shade during the slow hours of the day when the temperature can hit 100 degrees. Terry and the boys stayed there all day. They were well out of our sight, so nobody paid much attention to them. I don't think there was much shooting coming from that direction, so they didn't really stand out in the big scheme of things.
Anyway, at the end of the day, a good bit after dark, I was at Jim's house when the phone rang. A friend of my brother-in-law had spotted a couple of little boys hiding in a ditch on the road going out to the dove field. When they past by, the boys had jumped off down in the weeds and the caller said he didn't know who they were so he just kept going. He figured he'd call Jim and see if he knew anybody who's kids were missing. Another phone call a few minutes later came from Terry's wife wondering if anybody had seen Terry and the boys since it was past dark and they hadn't shown up at home yet. Jim decided he would go out and see if the boys hiding in the weeds were Terry's boys. Well, sure enough he found them. He said when he drove up they jumped off in the kudzu and hid, but when he called to them they came up to the truck. As was expected, they turned out to be Terry's boys.
When asked where Terry was they said he had fallen asleep under the tree. They tried to wake him up, but couldn't. When it started getting late, they figured it was time to head home. Being about 5 and 7 years old, they couldn't drive so they started walking toward "home". Now this all sounds really sad, but here is the best part of the story. When asked what they thought was wrong with their father and why he wouldn't wake up, one responded, "I don't know...just stupid I guess!" It turns out that Terry had spent the afternoon, not shooting at dove but sitting in the shade drinking beer until he past out drunk.
Honestly, I think that is one of the best lines I have ever heard. I have used it myself dozens of times over the years. There's something about it that lets you have the last word. I mean, who can argue. Try it sometime. The next time your boss asks why you haven't gotten that report finished, just say, "I don't know...just stupid I guess." Or when your teacher asks why John Hancock signed the Declaration of Independence in extremely large print, just say, "I don't know...just stupid I guess." Or why you didn't do well on that little test posted on The Biting Fly blog...
Throughout man's history, a good hunt has been the source of many memories. Consider cave paintings that show men hunting animals eons ago. Also consider the fact that hunters like to sit around telling stories. Hunting, for whatever reason, seems to be a bonding experience. For the purpose of this post, let's not get off on the subject of whether hunting is right or wrong.
I have plenty of memories from the hunting trips I have taken in my life. Not so much the actual hunting part, but the human interaction that takes place. The unexpected tale that doesn't include the plight of the prey, but that of the hunter. Like the time Jim's pants split completely apart. Not just a tear in the seat but actual transformation into a rather odd skirt. Another incident that comes to mind was when Donald, a close acquaintance of Jim's, discharged his 12 guage shotgun in the cab of Jim's truck. The resulting hole in the floor was about two inches to the right of the accelerator where Jim's foot was feverishly throttling the Ford F-150, better known as "The Bad Eight", through a plowed field.
However, my favorite story happened about twenty years ago at a fairly large dove hunt not far from here. There was a fellow named Terry that worked on the farm with Jim. Terry took his two little boys with him that day and they went toward the back of the dove field finding a good spot under a tree. Not that sitting under a tree is a good place to hunt, but it does offer shade during the slow hours of the day when the temperature can hit 100 degrees. Terry and the boys stayed there all day. They were well out of our sight, so nobody paid much attention to them. I don't think there was much shooting coming from that direction, so they didn't really stand out in the big scheme of things.
Anyway, at the end of the day, a good bit after dark, I was at Jim's house when the phone rang. A friend of my brother-in-law had spotted a couple of little boys hiding in a ditch on the road going out to the dove field. When they past by, the boys had jumped off down in the weeds and the caller said he didn't know who they were so he just kept going. He figured he'd call Jim and see if he knew anybody who's kids were missing. Another phone call a few minutes later came from Terry's wife wondering if anybody had seen Terry and the boys since it was past dark and they hadn't shown up at home yet. Jim decided he would go out and see if the boys hiding in the weeds were Terry's boys. Well, sure enough he found them. He said when he drove up they jumped off in the kudzu and hid, but when he called to them they came up to the truck. As was expected, they turned out to be Terry's boys.
When asked where Terry was they said he had fallen asleep under the tree. They tried to wake him up, but couldn't. When it started getting late, they figured it was time to head home. Being about 5 and 7 years old, they couldn't drive so they started walking toward "home". Now this all sounds really sad, but here is the best part of the story. When asked what they thought was wrong with their father and why he wouldn't wake up, one responded, "I don't know...just stupid I guess!" It turns out that Terry had spent the afternoon, not shooting at dove but sitting in the shade drinking beer until he past out drunk.
Honestly, I think that is one of the best lines I have ever heard. I have used it myself dozens of times over the years. There's something about it that lets you have the last word. I mean, who can argue. Try it sometime. The next time your boss asks why you haven't gotten that report finished, just say, "I don't know...just stupid I guess." Or when your teacher asks why John Hancock signed the Declaration of Independence in extremely large print, just say, "I don't know...just stupid I guess." Or why you didn't do well on that little test posted on The Biting Fly blog...
Jim asked the boys if they were scared walking down the road in the dark. The 7 year old said "Naw...I got my gun here. I'd just shoot 'em," as he patted his Daisy BB gun with confidence.
Reply to this