I called it a Pheasant hunt, but it was more a case of shooting whatever I could – ducks, geese, Pheasants, even partridge. It was also a sentimental hunt, as I took Elvis to where Doc had his final hunt.
Elvis and I went hunting the week before and despite the dire weather warnings, I didn’t dress for the occasion yet was comfortable with my winter gear of tennis shoes, flannel shirt and camo jacket. Even with a 20-plus mph wind, it still wasn’t too bad when the rain began. It was a different story when the snow hit.
We hunted for about three hours, kicking up a hen Pheasant and watching a rooster flush wild about 100 yards out. Unfortunately, I never trained Elvis to point ducks as I had with Doc and Mia, so when he saw a couple sitting in the river, broke and charged them. Oh well, it was all in fun.
Once the snow began, I decided to hunt closer to home in case the roads got bad which was a good decision, as we were detoured when the I-86 eastbound was closed, which I later learned was due to a fatal accident. We hunted in the snow for about an hour although I hadn’t dressed for snow. Elvis wasn’t ready to quit but I knew he’d pay the price for it later.
This last Friday, Elvis again went hunting for whatever we could find, and it was a hunt of “almosts”. We spent three hours hunting brush and up and down hills, covering 5.16 miles according to my Fitbit.
After hunting along the river for a couple of hours, we climbed the bluffs and hunted partridge. By now, Elvis was tiring so we spend another hour hunting our way back to the truck, encountering a flock of partridge three times before they disappeared for good. I did get one shot, but it was a long one and I missed.
Tired as he was, there was no quit in Elvis and despite of my lack of success in bagging birds, Elvis and I had a couple of nice outings.