It’s that time of year again. Birds are singing, grass is greening, flowers are blooming, navels are showing. That means yet another hunt season is drawing to a close. This season was cursed by some of the worst, wettest weather I can remember. We got off to a fairly good start in October. November was a little worse. December-March were the pits. I only hunted 10 times in those 4 months, because the ground was usually either too frozen or too muddy. But at least we managed to end with a pretty good day on Wednesday. Despite his lack of exercise, Crossbo was his usual super self. Have I ever mentioned I love my horse?
Who needs dragons?
A couple of decades ago, my erstwhile sailing buddy and I were having deep philosophical discussion. The dialog had reached a level of profundity that can only be attained through ingestion of copious quantities of ethanol. Embarking on a radical new tangent, Dave suddenly blurted “J Matt, we need more dragons.” This was somewhat confusing, as our lack of dragons didn’t seem to be causing any immediate problems at the moment, but I astutely deducted that, given an opportunity, Dave would have an adequate explanation for this sudden need of which I was unaware.