Just like the typical boy, I always promised my parents that if they just would let me get a BB gun, I wouldn't shoot any birds. They must have known better, because they didn't let me have a BB gun until I was 12. Naturally as soon as I got my gun, I started to hunt for and shoot birds. Usually, my BB's just bounced harmlessly off my prey. This wasn't very satisfying. Then one day, my friend Jeff called. He wanted to know if I wanted to go hunting for birds with him using shotguns. This sounded like a great opportunity, so I said,”sure”.

Jeff's dad was an avid hunter who had plenty of guns and two hunting dogs. Both dogs were German Shorthairs, which is a good breed for hunting. Sally was the older dog; she had a bad case of arthritis in her two rear legs, so she was semi-retired from hunting. Betsy was young and hadn't been on very many hunts, so she still had a lot to learn.

I went over to Jeff's early on that Saturday morning not knowing what to expect. As soon as I arrived, Jeff got out two shotguns. One was a 12 gauge and the other was a 20 gauge. Sally, the oldest dog, absolutely went nuts as soon as she saw the guns. I couldn't believe it, Sally was running all over the house like a puppy. There was no way that we could leave her behind as we originally intended.

We loaded the guns and the dogs into Jeff's car and only had to drive about three miles to the field where we were going to hunt. It was a field then, but 40 years later the only crops in that field are office buildings and parking lots.

After we got to the field I noticed three or four duck blinds around the field's perimeter. I figured that the farmer must rent the field to a hunt club during duck hunting season.

Jeff gave me the 20 gauge while he used the 12 gauge. I really liked the 20 gauge. It had very little kick and was light, so it was easy to carry.

We walked around the field and shot pigeons whenever they flew by. Most people that shoot at birds make the mistake of shooting right at the bird, but I had some experience at shooting skeet, so I was familiar with principles of lead.

After we took a few shots, I was really glad that I didn't have the 12 gauge. Jeff was an experienced shooter, but his shoulder was turning red, even though he was wearing a coat.

As we walked around the field, we had to go around a large batch of blackberry vines. As we walked around the vines, a flock of quail surprised us by taking flight right in front of us. They were way too quick for me, so my shot missed. Jeff's shot, however, got one, so I got to see where experience helps.

One time we spotted a pigeon sitting in an oak tree. We both threw rocks at it because we figured it wouldn't be very sporting to shoot a pigeon that was just sitting there. Rocks didn't work and yelling didn't work, so I shot it. Neither one of us wanted to take it home though because we were afraid that maybe it wouldn't fly because it was sick.

Sally and Betsy pretty much did as we thought they would do. Sally was good at fetching downed birds, but Betsy didn't know what to do. She would pick up the birds and run around. Because we wanted to spare Sally from doing a lot of running and Betsy kept running away with our birds, Jeff and I usually fetched our own birds.

At the end of the day, we had 15 pigeons and Jeff had gotten a couple of quail.

When I got home, my mom called Jeff's mom and found out how to cook the pigeons. I was surprised at how good the pigeons tasted. I was also pleasantly surprised that I didn't bite into any birdshot. To this day, I still don't know what happened to it.