First feathers

It's Friday afternoon and my 5-year old son wants to go hunting...you don't have to twist poor old dad's arm, let's gear up!  Orange vest, water, hunting boots and toy shotgun, I think we're set!  Grab the pooch and we're ready to kick up some birds.  My son has no idea what to expect, as this is his first time going hunting with me, but as soon as we get to our hunting spot he's out the door and ready to wear out some boot leather, good thing it wasn't far. I could tell he was in his element already, even though some of the grass and weeds were taller then he was he pushed forward, not once dropping his gun to the ground.  As soon as we stepped out we were on the quail and so was Kati.

There is nothing like quail to make a gun dog go totally insane.  We made our first push through the covey of quail and then continued on along the irrigation canals in hopes of pushing up a rooster.  Wiley rooster had his own plans though and was on the run.  Finally towards the end of a canal he gets up out of range and with a few cackles he's sailing away to his sanctuary next to the farmhouse.  On our way back to the rig we pick up a few more quail.  One of my sons new found interests...picking up spent shells.  I always try to pick up shells when I'm hunting, because I know I miss a few myself, and my son picked up on it quickly.  All in all we had a great few hours of hunting.  And like always, some very interesting questions.

This was one proud boy, and in my eyes he's the one that bagged the birds today, I was just along for the ride.  I think I might have made a hunter out of him today.

"Dad, when are we going hunting again?"