Death to Doves

Opening Day of Dove Season was better to me this year than it has been the last couple of years combined. We went to a VERY good outfitter near Hico, Texas called "Flying P Outdoors." These folks are, hands down, the nicest people I've met in Texas.

I did not limit out (the doves are still scarce for some reason), but I bagged two and lost one on the morning of the first, and I discovered the limits of my shotgun's range and my skill in the afternoon. (That's not entirely true: Dad and I both shot at the same bird at nearly the same time, and it went down; we counted it as an assist.)

Day Two: the morning hunt sucked. We were near some yahoos who could not tell the difference between scissor-tails, cattle birds, crows, hawks or doves, and who took pot-shots at everything that flew, dragonflies included. At least one of them had taken the restrictor out of his magazine, and was firing his semi-auto as fast as he could pull the trigger. I did not even fire my shotgun Sunday morning. The afternoon hunt, however, was fantastic.

That afternoon, after yet another great meal at the Flying P, the Senior Attorney and I adjourned to the Sporting Clays range. Great fun there slaying orange clay pidgeons. There was a fellow there named Jimmy Galindo from Houston who is an outfitter for duck hunts and a certified master instructor (I have the title wrong, but you get the idea), and he was offering pointers to the guests. I used his advice that afternoon and bagged six before the rain came. Galindo has a web-site, but I can't find it at the moment. Every time I look up permutations of his name and "Fowl Mouthed Hunter," I keep getting references to a judge in Houston. Anyway, he was a good fellow and an excellent shot to boot. Ironically, I think I learned more about coaching and instructing from him in an hour than I've learned from a degree's worth of professors, but then sometimes I deconstruct things a little too much. Suffice it to say that his style of instruction was impressive.

Anyway, to my Heathen brother I say this: you've got to come with us next year. We fully intend to go with Flying P again.