Meet the Sniper

The good news is that my kills-per-shot ratio in dove hunting this year is 1 to 1. The bad news is that I only saw one bird in range for a shot on opening day. The dogs and i went out to Wagon Train Lake on Tuesday between 10 and 11 in the morning; not the ideal time, I know. We walked across the dam and then through the wooded area on the southwest corner of the property. Coming back across the dam, I noticed a pair of doves fly down to the water's edge way up ahead of us. I watched, hoping they'd hang around until we got close enough for a shot, but they took off and landed again somewhere near the other end of the dam. They never appeared again, so we loaded up and drove to the far end of the property where there was some heavily wooded ground next to an open field of tall weeds (mostly fox tail, I think). We wound our way through the woods, but it was thick with spider webs. I'm not worried about spiders or anything, but I hate the way the damn webs stick to your face and clothing and such. So, we worked our way out into the field and headed back toward the truck. Presently, I spotted a dove drop down out of one of the trees and head across the field about 40 yds. out. I had no trouble putting the front sight on it since I got the new bright green fiber-optic job from Cabela's a week or so ago. Its mate left the tree just a little behind but dropped too low for me to get a shot at it until it was out of range.

I kept my eye on the area the first dove dropped but didn't really expect to find it in the thick growth. I could hardly see the ground and had no idea where the dogs were except when they came close enough for me to hear them. I stopped about where I thought the dove came down and saw the weeds moving around just a few feet away. I found Sienna there wagging her tail and eyeballing the dead bird just inches from her nose. God, I love dogs! I let the other two sniff it when they finally figured out where we were. Mocha didn't care much, but Murphy wanted to bite its head off. It's probably not a wise thing to do, but I fried the little critter up and fed it to the dogs once we got home (one small bite each with Sienna getting the lion's share since she found it). Then, I spent about an hour cleaning the weed seeds from the dogs coats and my sneakers.

Wednesday, my son and i went out to Pawnee Lake to practice on some clay pigeons. I should stick to doves. We didn't actually count, but I'd guess we hit somewhere between half and two thirds of our attempts. My cheek is still a bit sore, but my shoulder held up surprisingly well.

The Saltdogs won the second home playoff game after getting their butts kicked in the first one by the Wichita Wingnuts. I have to wonder if they have a factory there that makes wingnuts, or if they just chose that name for the consonance effect. I guess it's no worse than making up something like Saltdogs. The third game is tonight at 7 pm in Wichita. Go Dogs!