Duck Hunting

Thursday morning I rolled out of bed, turned my alarm off and stared at my clock which read 5:45. Slowly, I put on my hunting gear. I grabbed my bag and my shotgun, a beautiful semi-auto 12 gauge that used to belong to my grandfather. Andrei, one of my little brothers, ran out to greet me and wish me luck. I went down stairs to wake my Dad up, then left to start the coffee.

After we got every thing together I started the truck and loaded Chewy, our black lab, up and grabbed two pieces of pizza my Mom had made the day before and went into the truck. We drove into Manhattan and pulled into our hunting spot.

After walking to the river my dad set up our decoys. We then hid in some trees and waited. A duck flew by us and I pulled out my shot gun and took the safety off. "Not yet!" my Dad said. I put the safety back on.

Dad tried to call the duck back. Suddenly it flew over, not 20 feet away from me. I stuck my shot gun out and tried to take my safety off, but it had frozen in place! We didn't see any more ducks the rest of the day.

As we left for the truck my hands started hurting they were so cold, Dad's gloves froze in place, both of our face masks froze and Dad's coffee, which was in the truck, froze. We went in the truck and I looked over at Dad. "That was fun!" I said. My Dad laughed.

The next morning we also went, only this time I had cake my Mom had made the day before. Once we got walking to the hunting site some of my gear fell out of my hunting bag, so I went to pick it up and by that time my Dad was gone.

So I picked my bag up and left in the general direction that he went. After a couple minutes of searching I found him setting up the duck decoys. For most of the morning we didn't see much [O.K, I didn't see much. My Dad saw plenty, but I couldn't.]

Later on though a group of golden eyes were flying by us. I was kneeling at the time, and I stuck my shot gun through some branches and fired. Since I wasn't standing, I wasn't prepared for the kick which knocked me down on the ground. "You got him!" My Dad shouted.

The duck fell on the far side of a river. Chewy ran off after it, stopped, looked back at my Dad and walked over to him. "I'm not going over there, that water's cold!" He was probably saying. My Dad tried to get it but the water was too deep and the current too strong. Oh well, at least I got my first duck.