Long retrieves
There must have been just the right number of pellets held tight enough in the yellow 20-gauge shell to connect with the late-flushing rooster in the group of more than a dozen tucked into the grass surrounded by the golden corn fields still waiting to be harvested. The bird fluttered and toppled a good distance away to my right as the remainder of the hens and roosters scattered to my left. I pegged a gray clump of grass a few yards in front of the crash-landing site and was just about to call my lab, Ole, over to begin the search after his switchbacking excitement of putting up the ...