Wildweasel
NES Member
The old model 37 20 gauge was fast asleep in the dark tight confines of the gunsafe when it was shaken awake from its 6 year slumper.
It saw the light of a fine autum day once more, it was the boy , now older and a little worse for wear as was the gun itself. They where soon headed down the road to the fields where first his father when he came back from the USMC in 53, and then his uncle back from the usmc and 2 tours in a far off place called vietnam and then the boy back from keeping the Russians at bay for 4 years.
No dog was with us, as the last hunting Spainel had passed away last year yet here we where looking for our elusive prey. the Boy wasn't quite so fast going up the hills nor going down but his hunters eyes where busy. He had to be the bird dog as his father often had him do when a hunting dog tired or needed some help in hard cover. we truged through many of the same fields as we the model 37 had for the last 53 years carried much the same way.
The shadows where getting longer when they crested the large dirt hill placed there from the gravel excavation, (that was new!) and they took in the fall spendor in front of them once more, and breathed in the fresh country air.
We stood and listened and could hear a familer sound but where yet unsure.
after a time to rest the Lad desended the steep part of the hill, Yet suddenly
out of the side of the grass exploded a biege ball of feathers streaking towards the sky!
Before the 37 knew what happened it lept to the shoulder of the boy and snapped off a shot almost as fast as could be seen, yet slower than the many times in the past 27 years and with a roar the no 6 pellets flew true. the bird crashed to the ground. the boy took a breath and held the shotgun close .
although he had done the same hundreds of time every flush and shot was new and exciting.
They went and collected thier prize and too soon it was time to go, but the game pouch was heavy with the Hen Pheasent and the ol 37 had once again proven to the boy it could do what none of his other shotguns could do . Provide a magic door to stand with his father once more and hunt the fall fields.
RIP dad it has been too long.
It saw the light of a fine autum day once more, it was the boy , now older and a little worse for wear as was the gun itself. They where soon headed down the road to the fields where first his father when he came back from the USMC in 53, and then his uncle back from the usmc and 2 tours in a far off place called vietnam and then the boy back from keeping the Russians at bay for 4 years.
No dog was with us, as the last hunting Spainel had passed away last year yet here we where looking for our elusive prey. the Boy wasn't quite so fast going up the hills nor going down but his hunters eyes where busy. He had to be the bird dog as his father often had him do when a hunting dog tired or needed some help in hard cover. we truged through many of the same fields as we the model 37 had for the last 53 years carried much the same way.
The shadows where getting longer when they crested the large dirt hill placed there from the gravel excavation, (that was new!) and they took in the fall spendor in front of them once more, and breathed in the fresh country air.
We stood and listened and could hear a familer sound but where yet unsure.
after a time to rest the Lad desended the steep part of the hill, Yet suddenly
out of the side of the grass exploded a biege ball of feathers streaking towards the sky!
Before the 37 knew what happened it lept to the shoulder of the boy and snapped off a shot almost as fast as could be seen, yet slower than the many times in the past 27 years and with a roar the no 6 pellets flew true. the bird crashed to the ground. the boy took a breath and held the shotgun close .
although he had done the same hundreds of time every flush and shot was new and exciting.
They went and collected thier prize and too soon it was time to go, but the game pouch was heavy with the Hen Pheasent and the ol 37 had once again proven to the boy it could do what none of his other shotguns could do . Provide a magic door to stand with his father once more and hunt the fall fields.
RIP dad it has been too long.
![[wink]](/xen/styles/default/xenforo/smilies.vb/002.gif "Wink [wink]")
He wouldn't even let me read it until he posted it.
