Your Most Memorable Moment Last Season

Opening weekend in Kansas, dad, bro in law, his buddy, and my two buddies hunting, with my 1 year old GSP, my buddies 8 year old GSP, and bro in laws 6 year old GSP.

Walking a half section of CRP, all three dogs go on point, about 5 yards away from each other in a triangular pattern, all looking towards the center. My buddy yells that we've got a point, I yell back to get in and bust them, cause if there are birds there they won't stick around. He ends up fiddling with his phone, trying to get a picture. After what seems like 5 minutes, he finally finds the right button to get the picture (of course it is only of one of the 3 dogs). Dad and I hadn't gone over because we didn't think it would take this long to unfold, besides, why would a wild rooster stick around for this pomp and circumstance.

Anyways, my two buddies walk in to the center of the dogs, all still locked solid. Not a tree in sight. You could see a jackrabbit running away from you for 3 days where we were at, thats how open it was. 3 roosters flush, 2 fairly decent shooters empty their guns, and 3 roosters fly off to do battle with some other hunters on another day.
 
My most memerable hunt last year was taking my uncle to Kansas. He loved it! We didn't shoot a lot but he still enjoyed himself. The best part was actually before and after the hunt. Before the trip every time Dave, a local dog train, came in to the store he would talk his ear of and ask him questions about his dogs and hunting in S. Dakota kept asking if he would like to come with us. After the hunt it was all he talked about for 2 weeks straight. Anyone that would listen he would tell them about it.

The ultimate memory is when he shook my hand and thanked me after he shot his first wild pheasant. That image will never be erased.
 
Mine would have to be when I shot my first Rooster. My dad and I were walking to check a pot hole for ducks. In a very rare occasion, I was walking in front of my dad for just a short instant but luck was on my side. Just as I stepped from the tree line to a tall grass field. A big rooster took flight just about at my feet. I cocked the hammer on my savage 410/22 O/U and shouldered it. Took aim and boom the Rooster folded in mid air and hit the ground. My dad nearly bowled me over running to the spot where it fell. He picked it up and was beaming from ear to ear. I remember sitting in the shade of the Red Oaks and watching my dad pluck the bird smooth and clean as a babies bottom. It was a beautiful sunny Indian summer fall day. It had that beautiful orange skin. I don't remember if we ever did go jump the pot hole for ducks but I will always remember shooting that Rooster. My dad still has that 410/22 O/U Savage. That day is what keeps me wanting to enjoy that day over and over each time I go a field.

Onpoint
 
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Second last weekend in IL. Had a good hunt set up with 6 guys and 5 dogs only 4 of the guys and 3 of the dogs don't show.

Just my buddy and I and my vizsla and pup. Windy, cold day. Vizsla goes on point right in front of my friend and bird holds tight. Buddy flushes thecock and proceeds to miss three straight time. I peeled off one shot from my 20ga at about 40 yards and dropped it dead.

Maybe 200yds further up we were turning back to go to the truck and I noticed my vizsla was around. He had run up about 100yds further up wind. I knew he was on a bird but we were at the end of the property so as we walked back (thankfully with the 25mph wind at our backs) I thought I heard a cackle.

I turned and noticed a rocket heading towards us at 1000mph but about 75 feet in the air and 30 yrds up and across a ditch we were walking (uncrossable I would discover).

I thought hell, it's just about the end of the season so I took one pop at him and dropped it like a rock. Had to walk all the way back to the road to cross then 1/2 mile back across the frozen plowed field to retrieve the bird as neither dog had any clue where to go and the ditch was too steep to get down and too deep to get across if I could.

Those had ot be the two longest shots I've ever made on a cock and both were deader than bin Laden and better yet were done to spite my buddy who still can't beleive he missed three.
 
My moment was when my dog Toby, a 4 year old chocolate lab. Got the whole idea about hunting. He has always been a great flushing dog. But the retrieving end of the deal had much to be desired. He would usually just take the bird and hard mouth it until I forced it out of his mouth. But this last year it all clicked for some reason. About half way through our first day he brought a pheasant that I downed about 30 yard out half way back and stopped. As much as I told him to come he just stopped. I went and picked up the bird by his feet. He looked at me looking for praise for brining it half way and not chewing it all up. But I just looked at him and said, " That is not good enough. I want you to bring it all the way to me next time." And continued to hunt. About 15 minutes later another downed bird by my hunting parter sent him on the retrieve. He picked it up and walked past my hunting partner and brought it to me and held it until I asked for the bird. He got praised and a couple of treats right there. It just clicked for him after that. I got the perfect hunting dog now and I am looking forward to this next season comming up
 
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