Shotguns, Bows & Fool Hens by E. Donnall Thomas Jr. Although the termination dust had yet to fall, it was the kind of September day that demands the acknowledgement of the seasons’ passage. Although fresh silvers were still entering the streams, the heart of the fishing season lay behind me. Bull moose were starting to round up their cows, and lines of migrating geese undulated against the crisp, azure sky. Since I’d been in Alaska long enough to know what lay just around the corner, I felt determined to wring as much experience as possible from the outdoors before the sun disappeared and winter seized the North Country in its icy grip. And on that particular day, I meant to do it with my shotgun. If I had nothing else with me as I walked out the door of our remote Kenai Peninsula home, I certainly enjoyed plenty of confidence in my dog. I regarded Skykomish as the best hunting Lab I’ve ever owned, and the passage of three more decades—and a number of very good retrievers—has yet to
Post: 3 November 15:54
