Dove, Dogs, and Shotguns

On our first trip to South Texas dove hunting my dad, brother, and I had a hair-brained idea to head south at 8:00 P.M.. The plan was to make the six hour drive, get four or five hours of sleep and hit the field for the morning hunt. Let’s just say the ride was almost as spectacular as the hunt was.

We arrived in Donna, TX somewhere around two in the morning and that is where the fun began. We thought we would find the lease and get a nap in the truck. Finding the lease sounded easy enough, but turned out to be no small feat. We drove up and down the roads looking for an entrance to the Longoria Unit. We were suffering from sleep deprivation and the TPWD map just didn’t have enough details on it to navigate in the dark.

Meanwhile, there was another sub-plot going on that would turn out to be one of our fondest memories. As we drove up and down the streets in Donna there were several questionable activities going on in this not so good neighborhood. Dad was driving his truck and my brother and I were in mine. So, for the banditos (as they became known) having two vehicles passing back and forth seemed to bother them. They started changing their locations, which made us paranoid, thinking they were looking for us. At one point, Dad stopped and got his 12 gauge out and loaded it. I followed Dad’s lead and did the same.

By now a good hour and a half had gone by since we came into town. We were ready to give up and would have killed for some sleep. Alas, we found it, on the same dirt road we had been on twenty times and just didn’t go far enough. We pulled up, stretched our legs for a minute, and with the thought of the banditos fresh in our mind, laid back for a two hour nap.

As my brother and I drifted off into neverland, BOOM, BANG!! WERE UNDER ATTACK!!! I jumped up hit my head on the top of cab, tried to grab my gun, and almost messed in my pants all in a split second. Luckily my shotgun was on safety, because I would have blasted a hole right through my transmission. 

As for the attack, it was my dad dropping his tailgate and letting his dog out of the kennel. I just knew the banditos had found us and my adrenalin and lack of sleep caused a pretty serious over reaction.

Dad laughed so hard he almost fainted. I have to admit, it was pretty funny. Now every year there is at least some mention of the banditos on our dove hunting trips. A memory that will be with us long after we forget about all the good or bad shots we made. 

I think that anyone who is against hunting should try it. Whether it is dove hunting or any other type of hunting, the time spent hunting makes for some great times with friends and family. That’s what it is all about for me.

Sure, I’ll be the first to tell you how much I love the sport of dove hunting. But for me the sport is so intertwined with the times with Dad and my brother and now my two oldest sons. Three generations of my family will be in the field this year and for years to come. That is big.

The hunt is always fun, but remember the ride there, the hotel rooms and everything in between. It’s a package deal and it’s all worth it’s weight in gold.

Time to RELOAD!

Dove, Dogs, & Shotguns

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