Most Satisfying Shot

[BritChaser]

Tell us about your most satisfying shot. Here's mine:

Gus the Brittany and I are alone again and on a long hill, a ridge, that runs north-south for a half mile through a beautiful CRP field. All the ambers, umbers, tans, and beiges of fall decorate the flora and the sky is deep and so blue. We’ve been here before and have expectations of flushing pheasants. We’ve started at the north end so as to be heading into the slight southern breeze. Nature has provided us a gorgeous early winter day on the high plains of western Kansas.

We are about a fourth of the way along the long ridge just strolling along, no hurry and . . . point! I hasten forward. When I am about 40 feet from Gus, he breaks point and begins scurrying madly back and forth and ahead searching for the scent. This dog loves the hunt. (I don’t train my dogs to hold point until released. I leave that decision to them.) Point! I hustle to catch up hoping to make the flush. Point broken again and Gus is quartering and racing ahead to find the bird. I am speed walking with my gun held out front as I lean into the effort. Point! Point broken! Gus dashes on and quarters about. I’m breathing harder now. I stay leaning forward for speed, gun held away from me ready to snap to my shoulder. But I am not keeping up with Gus. I try to quicken my pace, give it more gas. But I don’t seem to have much more gas. Now I am catching up. I’m getting within range. Point! Point broken! Gus is quartering, on the run again. I am panting and sweating and feeling the strain in my not young legs. Point! Point broken! Point! Point broken! Gus is out of range again. But now I am catching up again somehow. Gus is now just 20 yards ahead. Point! I drive my legs and pant for air to close the distance for the flush. Point broken! But . . . Flush! The bird tears away in terror to the southwest. I shoulder and snap off a shot, hoping that I led him correctly. Knock down! I can’t believe it. I have no more in me and stand motionless and panting while Gus goes down the west slope for the retrieve. I feel the sweat dripping down my back and my neck as I finally catch my breath. I look around to get reoriented. We have chased the running bird to a point two-thirds of the way south along the half-mile long hill top. Gus trots up with the bird. Now all is not merely well, but wonderful. I just made the most satisfying shot in my years of hunting due entirely to the brilliant work of a minimally managed bird dog.

 

[remy3424]

I think in those situations when you are physically about spent, your concentration becomes more acute. It is a huge rush of relief mixed with a good amount of satisfaction folding a rooster with a tough shot in those conditions. Been there before also.

 

[Blondebomber]

That was a great story! Enjoyed it very much

 

[Limitless]

Very nice. Got that feeling stirring in me, thinking about those cacklers that will soon be back in the game with us.

I don’t train my dogs to hold point until released. I leave that decision to them.

Love that. Smart, experienced dogs know best.

 

[Labradinger]

Great story! I wasnt sure if this was one of those “post yours”, but i will. I had three of my most satisfying shots about 17 years ago with a 12 year old shorthair female who was all business most of her hunting career. Something about her was just different and programmed to kill birds. She locked up at one of my favorite spots, and i knew every hunt could be her last. Rooster flushes, dropped hard. About the same time as i shot, another flushed and flew same direction. Dead. About the time i shot, the 3rd flushed same direction. Dead. All birds were within a few feet of each other. Dead. I remember feeling thankful, but oddly, not terribly shocked. I knew her end was close, and it just felt like it was supposed to happen. If memory serves me, she had one more hunt. My mom went to watch after hearing me talk about how she hunts for years, and she got to see her in action and we got one bird she locked on and i nailed. Idk what was the most satisfying out of that, but I remember that “triple” like it was yesterday.

 

[birddude]

I remember a rare true double on rosters. Both dead. Different directions. Another that sticks in my mind was, my buddy and I had a covey of quail pointed in a tree line. I was shooting my Rizzini 16 o/u. I stepped through the tree line and a few steps latter a huge covey got up staggered. I missed one, killed one, reloaded, missed one killed one, reloaded, killed two. Reloaded and just stood there and watched another 15 or so get up the same way. I swear I could have killed maybe 8 without moving my feet. I knew I had 4 down so figured that was enough.