September Teal Season Provides Refuge for Blood-thirsty Dove Hunters

NEWSFLASH: The dove aren't flying this season. I should know. There's about 50 fattened beauties perched on top of my child's playset. While the HOA frowns upon firing shotguns in residential backyards — Damn, libs! I thought this was 'Merica! — I'm forced to find other birds to hunt this season. After an unsuccessful dove hunt out at the LG2 Ranch on Sept. 22, I'd all but lost hope in the next morning's hunt. So I did what every unsuccessful hunter does: I slept in. In the morning, the view from the porch confirmed my decision. Nothing was flying. Instead of wallowing in the covers, I decided to get up and go for a morning 4-wheeler ride with Noah. While heading out to the pastures, I decided to take a peek at Proffitt Lake to see if there was any activity. Just as the 4-wheeler came flying over the top of the dam, I spotted some movement near the shoreline and jammed on the brakes. "Teal!" I whisper to my son, pointing at the north edge of the lake. We reversed it out of there and headed back to the ranch. I grabbed my 20 gauge, loaded a few steel shells and left the little one with his grandparents. "Are you going to shoot them, dad?" Noah asks. "Don't shoot the ducks." My heart sinks. I look over to gram for a little help, maybe a "let's go inside, Noah" but she was as floored as I was. This would be our first life lesson: "Oh Noah, I have to shoot the ducks. They'll get away." Leaving him and myself confused by the explanation, I slowly backed toward the 4-wheeler and gunned it before his head stopped swimming with fatherly wisdom.

This time, coming up over the ridge again was disappointing. The teal had moved on. It was pointless. I sat there at the edge of the lake, totally exposed in my white shirt and black nylon shorts. Staring across the lake, I spot some movement across the southern shore. Bingo! Three teal! I walked around hoping they hadn't spotted me, all the while knowing they had. I rounded off my approach and surprised them from behind. Boom! Boom! Teal down. Who needs dove hunting when you have September teal season? I drove the two waterfowl back to camp and proudly displayed the birds for my son. Noah was so happy with the result, he hugged the bird and wouldn't let go. He held it up and showed all of the other ranchers. It was my first September Teal Season kill, and the first in a soon-to-be-long stream of father and son hunting discussions.