Don't Let the Gray Hair Fool You; I'm Still Just a Kid

Some of the best memories I have of my childhood are opening day bird hunts with my Dad. He started taking me dove hunting with him when I was around 3. I couldn’t keep up with him walking so sitting on a tank dam on warm evenings waiting on the dove to fly were just perfect. He’d shoot a bird and I’d run and get it. The running joke was he didn’t need a retriever, he had me. By the time I was 5 or 6, I could keep up, and he began taking me on quail hunts. I thought I was big when Mom gathered up and safety pinned the neck of his game vest enough that I could wear the thing without it dropping off my shoulders. There’s no telling how many shells I lost out of the pockets of that old vest as it would bounce off my shins and hang up in the brush. He didn’t care though. After going thru the same ritual with my son, I realized he was probably just as happy to have me tag along as I was for mine to be there.
When I was 9, I came home from school one day and found an old Savage single shot 20 gauge lying in the floor next to his Franchi 12. I remember wanting it so bad but I was afraid to ask because of the devastation I’d feel if the answer were to be no. So I did the next best thing and asked if he’d bought himself a new shotgun. He said that he had but was afraid it was too short for him and asked me to try it out. I made sure it was empty and shouldered the well worn stock. He said he thought it would fit me better and asked if I thought I could hit a bird with it. I can't remember my reply but I'm sure it included a grin.
I took 4 birds the next day with that old Savage. I have no idea how because I bet I didn't sleep 15 minutes the night before. In fact, for several nights before every opening day, I would have trouble sleeping. I was just too excited. I would be tired and try to sleep but my mind, even at that age, wouldn't shut up. Visions of the coming hunt would swirl around in my brain until the wee hours of the morning before I'd drift off to sleep. I don't hunt much anymore, instead I fish. In a few days I'm leaving on a fishing trip to Colorado and guess what; I'm having trouble sleeping. Long gone are the opening days with Dad, but I still get excited just like I did back then. I can't help it. I'm still just a kid.

D