fourteen and a half years ago i talked my dad into letting me get a dog for duck hunting. i named him shooter, i retired him after his 13th season in 2011. Sunday was the last day of the 2013 duck season, the closing minutes were 4:19. he died sunday afternoon at 4:30. it seems like he knew it was a good day to die. i dug the hole over looking a pond my dad and i lease, this is where we both grew up. i dug the hole monday afternoon/night. my father and i buried him last night. he is buried with his favorite things. he lies on two couch cushions, the throw pillow off the couch, the pillow off his bed (yes he had his own bed), 2 ducks, 2 pheasants, a bag of pizza crust, a bag of left overs from market street deli in delavan. he is gone but will never be forgoten. There are to many hunts to forget and stuff he did. he ate over a hundred choc chip cookies off the counter, broke the leaf on the kitchen table to get pizza crust. he ate the first cabelas catalog to come out. the most pheasants he put up at the game farm in one day is 34, my budy and i got 33. i helped friends find ducks they shot but couldnt find cause they had no dog, just show me where they fell and hell find your birds. i can never compare another dog to him because there will never be any comparison. he had no quit what so ever, his heart never gave up. HUNTEM UP BOY
Posted on: Wed, 04 Dec 2013 23:16:52 +0000
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