Seriously... What Was I Thinking?

I don’t know what I was thinking.

Instead of hunting every day since the season opened like I’ve done for the last 20 years, I took on a building project.

In September.

It might have simply been an effort on my part to prove to my wife that I can do more than hunt in the fall. Now I’m paying the price. After pounding nails for three weeks I can’t hit the broadside of a barn, let alone a bird on the wing. My dog’s motor is stuck on high, and neither of us is in shape.

Dot quit after hunting two hours last week, apparently discouraged by my poor marksmanship. I tried to explain to her that when I’m focused on the controller button for her collar, I don’t shoot well, if at all.

But if this is a different season for me it’s much more so for her. Dot always hunted alongside Ace who passed away last spring. Now she’s the only dog.

At four years of age she’s entering her prime, full of enthusiasm and energy. On the other hand, I’m somewhat past mine, leaning more toward apathy and lethargy.

Thank goodness for electronics. Dot responds well to the tone button, changing direction when I hit it, but I’m afraid I’ll wear it out keeping her from chasing scent across the horizon.

Hunting her is like flying a radio-controlled model airplane. Both require constant attention.

Knowing I’d have to sacrifice hunting for construction, I consoled myself with the fact that Septembers are hotter now, and it wouldn’t hurt to wait a bit. But it does, even today when it’s 80 degrees before noon on the way to 93.

I’ve got another week or two to wrap up the building project for the winter. Until then, I’ll lament the days spent doing anything other than hunting.

Dot, I’m sure, will come around. I’m less sure about myself. All I can do is try.

A construction job in September?

What was I thinking?

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]