After getting a text message that they were having some luck fishing and I made the decision to move from the field to the pond, I packed up my gear (gun unloaded and over my shoulder). Naturally, right after I had done so, three doves flew directly over me. Of course they did. Pie shots. Oh well, what can you do? I went down to fish, although it was a futile effort on my part. John, Allston, and Davis did have some success though!

We did think that this whopping monster of a trout was hilarious. Enter: the tried-and-true “arms out” shot that anglers everywhere use to make their catch look larger than it really is. In reality, it was comically tiny, but pretty nonetheless!

As the afternoon wore on, John and I figured we should start heading back to Charleston. But you know what? The thought of sitting back in the dove field sounded much better then getting in the car, so that’s what I did. A few of us headed back out and all sat together, “hunting” and enjoying our last few minutes in the field for the day. I shot at and knocked down the only dove that flew over me, so it wasn’t exactly a barrel burner, but we managed to keep ourselves entertained.

I had to scold Prine when I called him over to get in a photo with me. Why? Because after his explorations around the field, he came back to me looking like this:

He had about 400 cockaburs (aka sand spurs/ rockachaws) nice and matted and tangled in his ears and fur… And he could not have been more proud.

I think his day was just as much fun as ours, if not more so. Don’t you just love weekends when you can do whatever suits your mood?