Thursday, September 25, 2008

Big Game Hunter

Blogging? Just thought I’d give it a try. With my wife writing daily and other family members trying it out….What better way to start than with a hunting trip with my son.

Yesterday I finally got to take my son Mikey dove hunting for the first time along with his Grandpa……It was a great feeling to see my son out there looking for those little gray birds in the sky. The funny thing was that every bird that flew by was a dove to him. Every few seconds it was “Daddy shoot it”, and my response would be “It’s not a dove”, and he would then reply “shoot it anyway, I want to pluck it”.

“Pluck it” was the phrase I was using since dove season started to try to get Mikey to go with me. You see……when I was a kid I use to go dove hunting with my dad; keep in mind this was before I was able to handle a shotgun. My title when my dad shot a dove was the “retriever/plucker”. Yep just like the dogs, But a dog could not pluck the birds. He tells me I would always say to him “I’m the best plucker, right dad?” I would even be the plucker for some of his hunting buddies. So using these stories I was finally able to get Mikey exited about hunting. Something I have not been successful at with other sports, baseball being the main one. I’ll get into that with another blog.

So there we are, me camouflaged up and Mikey wearing the black wind pants with a camo shirt. It started off as a slow day seeing a dove off in the distance and every other bird flying right over us. This soon became too much for Mikey as he began running around and squirting the water out of water bottles that he would later be wanting. This soon turned into the 1st gun safety rule of the day for Mikey. Horse playing around guns; he listened well as he never played in the area in front of us again.

About an hour (or what seemed an hour) into the hunt we finally had our first chance, several doves flew and landed in a field in front of us. Mikey and I headed towards the field and Grandpa headed to the left to try and spook the doves towards us. Mikey followed right beside me. I kept telling him to keep an eye on the field to see if the doves flew away. I would glance at him and see that “1,000 yard stare” in his face. As we approached I would see several more doves flying in the distance and would squat down to see if they would come our way, but they wouldn’t. As we did this, Grandpa kept walking and soon was ahead of us and would probably get the first shot at today’s first bird. Mikey must have been watching and learning as we went, because as we got closer one dove flew and headed away from us; and when I looked at Mikey he was already squatting down. All I could think was “that’s my boy”. Grandpa walked a little further and soon got the dove flying, “Bang” one shot rang, Mikey’s reaction was “see dad, that wasn’t loud” as he had the little green ear plugs in his ears. The shot appeared to have missed, but the dove landed real soon after taking off. My dad headed back to the truck, and I figured I would take Mikey for a closer look......

Reason is: I go to thinking when I’m patrolling the streets of this small Texas town, and I see few dead doves lying in the street. Of course, one could think that it got hit by a car which crosses my mind, but I see them a lot more when dove season starts. So I figure a hunter must have wounded it with a pellet or two several miles away and the dove finally succumbed to its injuries.

We kept walking and talking about finding the dove, and soon I figured we walked too far. We turned around and headed back. This time we walked a little slower. As we walked I caught a glimpse of a motionless dove lying on top of a pile of dirt from a recently plowed field. I did not say a word. I told Mikey to keep looking for a dead dove. As to rub it in he said “but you didn’t shoot a dove”. I told him Grandpa might have got lucky.

I’m thinking my dad thought he missed, just because he never thought twice about looking for the bird.

As we got close to where the dove landed, Mikey was looking hard, but didn’t see the dove merged in color with the dirt around it. I said “there it is”, and he started to say “where?” but soon saw the lifeless bird on the ground, Mikey just stood still and stared at it. Quickly he crouched down and studied the bird. I told him “pick it up son”, and he shook his head no. I told him we have to take it and pluck it for Grandpa; he said “no” as he continued to crouch. I finally picked the dove up and he just stared at it. He said “what are we going to do with it”. Very slowly we started walking back to the truck and I was thinking, what could Mikey be thinking right now? Without thinking of much to say about the dove, I spoke to Mikey a little about some hunting chronicles: You know, only shoot what you are going to eat etc.…..knowing my son I went deep into thought...... If I know this boy, tonight he is going to pray for the bird and its family and probably give me a lesson or two of my own.

After reaching the truck, the best “plucker” was Grandpa. Mikey as I said, wanted to watch and learn first. He only plucked several feathers as I knew he would. After the bird was plucked, Mikey looked as he plucked the day’s limit of doves. You know, dirt and blood on his face and hands. Gnats flying around him. Sweat from the long hike back to the truck. Looking at Mikey with dirt on his face and a little blood from the dove above his eyebrow and most importantly that smile, I knew he was hooked and we would soon be having more hunting experiences together............

2 comments:

Jess said...

Awww that was sweet, I am glad you enjoy taking Mikey with you. I know how much he loves to do things with you! Love Ya!!!

Jess said...

Ummm....
You need to get to blogging you are slacking my love!!!