Release the Hounds

 Drake and Genna were geared up and ready for the 15 degree cold and the floating ice when we hunted Friday morning.

 They watched us putting out and picking up decoys. They swam for recreation in the frigid brackish water. We did not drop any ducks as it was a morning of high fast flying mallards and black ducks whizzing by our decoy spread with less than no interest. We drank hot tea and warmed our hands over sterno and kept our hopes up. We knew the goose hunting in the afternoon would prove to be better. The dogs really don't care. They are happy to be out in the marsh and are ready for anything...especially a small piece of sausage egg 'n' cheese torn from the blind breakfast and offered to a gentle mouth.

 Drake belongs to my hunting buddy. Drake has a problem of being a little stand-offish in the blind. When a duck is shot he is a machine...but he will also honor the retrieve of  another dog with grace.I have known Drake since he was a tiny pup and would dognap him in a heartbeat. He is aces.

I wear armor of a black and a yellow against the travails of an indifferent universe.Truly, being mauled with Lab affection by this pair beats Hell out of Prozac or Zoloft as an anti-depressant.
The season is over except for Snow geese....we will probably chase them a bit in February. The Canadas we shot are in town at the barbecue joint that smokes birds for us. A little smoked goose during the Superbowl is a waterfowler's reward.