7:45 and Iowa

7:45 A.M. and Iowa. We have all 3 dogs ( 2 Viszla and 1 GSP) and are ready.

I am feeling the iced tea, ginseng, and those vitamin C powder packs. It is slightly cold enough to irritate the tips of my fingers.

Just as I load my shotgun, a minute from the truck, a rooster bursts through the frosty grass and thicket.

I pull up and hit him. I follow his descent as he crashes down in front of the bead of my shotgun. I see him jump back up. I hit him again just as Donnie (my uncle and hunting buddy) pops off a shot with his Binelli and finishes the play. A double of sorts (I needed it, thanks again).

-Dead Bird-

The rest of the hunt was cake. Lots of shooting. Tons of birds in every direction. Perfect.

On the drive from this location to another location, I was thinking about the locals talking about "low bird numbers".

Later, with my hands bloody, Johnny Cash is playing in the background. Little plucked under-feathers are silently dancing to this in the room. There is salt and freezer bags on the table. My dog is sleeping on the couch. Finally.