its more about the shotguns than the hunt so I'll post it here...
Once upon a time, about 20yrs ago, I was younger and married to my evil first wife (EFW). She was a secretary/assistant to the marketing exec for a small company here in the western part of Illinois. One day I got a call from her at work with a desperate and interesting offer from her boss. Would I be willing to please, please take off work the next day and play the part of pheasant guide for some business gents on a hunt in eastern Iowa? Seems the company was courting some Italian business interests and had promised somebody a first-class pheasant hunt. Some excellent private land was all set. Only problem was the first-class guide with the first-class dogs had bugged out with the deposit. I had a golden retriever of some local fame with a Phd (thats a pheasant hunting degree) and an Iowa hunting license. Boss offered to pack lunches and drive the VIPs to the hunt the next day and I agreed to do what I could to salvage things.
Next day I drive my rough Jeep cherokee to designated spot to find a shiny rented Town car with EFWs boss and 2 Italian gents parked at the gate.
After intros and a brief game plan I let ol'Buck out as we start uncasing the guns. Gent #1 carries a beautiful leather case over to the dropgate on my Jeep and opens it up to reveal a gorgeous Italian side-by-side in 16g. It had case hardened reciever works, beautiful wood, and stunning engraving. He lovingly assembled it and I got the notion that some serious currency had changed hands over this double. Gent #2 had a more modest over/under and I began to realize he was an aid and interpreter to #1. I had my trusty Browning SxS 12g which I shot very well but it looked like a club next to the others. I had also thrown a 20g wingmaster and a couple boxes of shells in at the last minute.
All set to move when Gent #1 closes the action and BLAM! Right barrel fires just past ol Bucks nose. I'm really wondering what we're in for at this point. Buck is instantly at heel, peeking around my left knee. Eyes are wide open and the Italian is horribly embarrased, opening the action and chattering words I didn't understand.
The calm was gradually restored, shoulders shrugged, etc, but the Gent was visibly shaken. He drops another shell in and carefully closed the action as I watched to see make sure his finger was clear of the triggers. He was directing the barrels well away from all and BLAM again!
At this point I directed #2 to have him remove all shells and try it empty. Sure enough there was a solid "click" every time he closed the action. He carried it over to the jeep like it was a baby that had just died and started putting it away. I actually thought he might cry. Boss was really getting wound up and didn't know what to do next.
I informed all that I had brought another shotgun and the fella could use either my 12g or the 20g pump. #2 conveyed the info but now Gent #1 was shaking his head and headed for the car refusing to hunt. I sat and talked to the dog while #2 and the Boss talked the Italian into giving it a try. He reluctantly handled both and decided to carry the 20g wingmaster. He was still apologizing for the AD and expressing gratitude for the loaner and shaking his head as we all kinda recovered and started to hunt out.
We started getting into some birds and the #1 gent made a couple very nice shots. Buck was working as solid as ever and making me proud. Gent #1 really started to enjoy himself and EFWs Boss started to relax. We had a deluxe field lunch back at the cars and hunted up a few more roosters for a daily total of 10 according to my log. #1 shot about half of those. I don't believe he missed any birds he shot at.
Back at the cars the Wingmaster was returned to me with several comliments on the loaner gun, the dog, the hunt, etc. Boss was fairly glowing. Buck was sleeping under the jeep when a nice fat tip found its way into my palm.
The Italian was truly a gentleman and a fine hunter. I watched as he opened the leather case once more and looked at his treasured shotgun like he was looking at a naughty child. He vowed that it would be repaired by its maker on his return to Italy. By all counts it was a good day and I drove home exhausted but happy.
The sad epilogue is that not much later the EFW ran off and took that 20g Wingmaster with her.
All of this is true.
and I swear I only miss the shotgun...
Once upon a time, about 20yrs ago, I was younger and married to my evil first wife (EFW). She was a secretary/assistant to the marketing exec for a small company here in the western part of Illinois. One day I got a call from her at work with a desperate and interesting offer from her boss. Would I be willing to please, please take off work the next day and play the part of pheasant guide for some business gents on a hunt in eastern Iowa? Seems the company was courting some Italian business interests and had promised somebody a first-class pheasant hunt. Some excellent private land was all set. Only problem was the first-class guide with the first-class dogs had bugged out with the deposit. I had a golden retriever of some local fame with a Phd (thats a pheasant hunting degree) and an Iowa hunting license. Boss offered to pack lunches and drive the VIPs to the hunt the next day and I agreed to do what I could to salvage things.
Next day I drive my rough Jeep cherokee to designated spot to find a shiny rented Town car with EFWs boss and 2 Italian gents parked at the gate.
After intros and a brief game plan I let ol'Buck out as we start uncasing the guns. Gent #1 carries a beautiful leather case over to the dropgate on my Jeep and opens it up to reveal a gorgeous Italian side-by-side in 16g. It had case hardened reciever works, beautiful wood, and stunning engraving. He lovingly assembled it and I got the notion that some serious currency had changed hands over this double. Gent #2 had a more modest over/under and I began to realize he was an aid and interpreter to #1. I had my trusty Browning SxS 12g which I shot very well but it looked like a club next to the others. I had also thrown a 20g wingmaster and a couple boxes of shells in at the last minute.
All set to move when Gent #1 closes the action and BLAM! Right barrel fires just past ol Bucks nose. I'm really wondering what we're in for at this point. Buck is instantly at heel, peeking around my left knee. Eyes are wide open and the Italian is horribly embarrased, opening the action and chattering words I didn't understand.
The calm was gradually restored, shoulders shrugged, etc, but the Gent was visibly shaken. He drops another shell in and carefully closed the action as I watched to see make sure his finger was clear of the triggers. He was directing the barrels well away from all and BLAM again!
At this point I directed #2 to have him remove all shells and try it empty. Sure enough there was a solid "click" every time he closed the action. He carried it over to the jeep like it was a baby that had just died and started putting it away. I actually thought he might cry. Boss was really getting wound up and didn't know what to do next.
I informed all that I had brought another shotgun and the fella could use either my 12g or the 20g pump. #2 conveyed the info but now Gent #1 was shaking his head and headed for the car refusing to hunt. I sat and talked to the dog while #2 and the Boss talked the Italian into giving it a try. He reluctantly handled both and decided to carry the 20g wingmaster. He was still apologizing for the AD and expressing gratitude for the loaner and shaking his head as we all kinda recovered and started to hunt out.
We started getting into some birds and the #1 gent made a couple very nice shots. Buck was working as solid as ever and making me proud. Gent #1 really started to enjoy himself and EFWs Boss started to relax. We had a deluxe field lunch back at the cars and hunted up a few more roosters for a daily total of 10 according to my log. #1 shot about half of those. I don't believe he missed any birds he shot at.
Back at the cars the Wingmaster was returned to me with several comliments on the loaner gun, the dog, the hunt, etc. Boss was fairly glowing. Buck was sleeping under the jeep when a nice fat tip found its way into my palm.
The Italian was truly a gentleman and a fine hunter. I watched as he opened the leather case once more and looked at his treasured shotgun like he was looking at a naughty child. He vowed that it would be repaired by its maker on his return to Italy. By all counts it was a good day and I drove home exhausted but happy.
The sad epilogue is that not much later the EFW ran off and took that 20g Wingmaster with her.
All of this is true.
and I swear I only miss the shotgun...