CharBroiled
Active member
I think I'm ready
For the last 4 years, my hunting has unfortunately been limited as I've been my Mom's caretaker. Dad passed away five years ago in July of '18 and mom suddenly had a myriad of health issued come boiling up. She only had one functioning kidney and was in stage 4 of renal failure. Up to 2019, she was an un-diagnosed diabetic. Throw in the fact she broke her hip a week after dad passed which resulted in the loss of a third of her foot with macular degeneration and it worked out for me to be busy. She passed away six weeks ago.
Pheasant hunting has always been my passion since my first hunt back in 1988. I've gone a few times in the last four years, very sporadically but always with the caretaker role hanging over my head these last few seasons. However, I think Mom understood my sacrifices for her health. I do harken back to the old times, with my Dad, a family friend and me, traipsing about the Kansas countryside in an old blue Ford, as we knocked on doors to ask permission. I learned to read a plat map while we would listen to either the KU or KSU game on the radio. We had permission to hunt quite a bit of ground back in the day.
This year, the passion has been renewed thanks to a new companion. I'm writing this as my 5.5 month old GSP puppy annihilates a chew bone after a mile walk this afternoon. I don't care about the doom and gloom, Socks and I are going to put in miles this season as we both learn the ins and outs of being a team. I'm not even sure if I need to carry a gun as the joy of seeing him do things in the field has been so immense already so there is a boatload of anticipation of watching him develop into the bird dog I think he can be. (He's got the best friend thing down already.) Whether it's good, fair or bad, I can't wait to be in field with my pup.
For the last 4 years, my hunting has unfortunately been limited as I've been my Mom's caretaker. Dad passed away five years ago in July of '18 and mom suddenly had a myriad of health issued come boiling up. She only had one functioning kidney and was in stage 4 of renal failure. Up to 2019, she was an un-diagnosed diabetic. Throw in the fact she broke her hip a week after dad passed which resulted in the loss of a third of her foot with macular degeneration and it worked out for me to be busy. She passed away six weeks ago.
Pheasant hunting has always been my passion since my first hunt back in 1988. I've gone a few times in the last four years, very sporadically but always with the caretaker role hanging over my head these last few seasons. However, I think Mom understood my sacrifices for her health. I do harken back to the old times, with my Dad, a family friend and me, traipsing about the Kansas countryside in an old blue Ford, as we knocked on doors to ask permission. I learned to read a plat map while we would listen to either the KU or KSU game on the radio. We had permission to hunt quite a bit of ground back in the day.
This year, the passion has been renewed thanks to a new companion. I'm writing this as my 5.5 month old GSP puppy annihilates a chew bone after a mile walk this afternoon. I don't care about the doom and gloom, Socks and I are going to put in miles this season as we both learn the ins and outs of being a team. I'm not even sure if I need to carry a gun as the joy of seeing him do things in the field has been so immense already so there is a boatload of anticipation of watching him develop into the bird dog I think he can be. (He's got the best friend thing down already.) Whether it's good, fair or bad, I can't wait to be in field with my pup.
