My father is nearing the end of a long battle with cancer, and asked me to get him a duck before he passes. I went to the property that I turkey hunt on, and I knew there was a beaver pond back in the woods south of the fields. On the way in, I jumped a mallard hen and dropped her. Being early in the afternoon, I expected that I would have a long wait until anything else came by, so I moved across some beaver runs, till I came to a promising looking spot about mid way on the pond. It wasnt long before a huge cold front blew in with high winds and menacing looking clouds. It must have made the ducks nervous because they were coming in off of the lakes in groups of 5 and 10. Within an hour I had my limit on the water, and was ready to head out, when I heard voices coming down the trail! It was my Step Grandson Tyler, who is also my hunting partner. He heard about what I was doing, and came to help. We spent the rest of the afternoon shooting ducks for my Dad, and talking about all the great hunts the 3 of us had together. We cleaned the ducks up and took them to my Dad. He was so happy, he had tears in his eyes, and hugged the pair of us. Dang I'm gonna miss him!
Richard