Looking up, he saw that his brother in law was looking at him. Look, he said, watch that dog work those bushes. And yes, sure enough, the brittney was mechanically working back and forth along the scrub in front of them, nose to the ground, determined, keen. Jesus, he thought, don't flush anything out, don't point, or whatever the hell you dogs doo.
It was the day before his sister's wedding, and he was "bonding" both his borhet in law to be. He had met him only once, since he was usuallly traveling for work. His future inlaw, on the ohtehr hand, had only been away fro m this small, hot, humid, flat Texas town a handfull of times, aondy only then to East Texas, which he made sound like a forighn country. And so, in a weak moment, he had agreed to go hunting, to bond, to make his sister happy. Hunding.
Dove hunting. Doves. The Bird of Piece. He was gong to kill some. Oh boy.
When his fuure in law said that they were going dove hunting, he had actually laughed. No really, what are we going after? Blkandk stare. A spit of babacco. Another blank stare. Doves.
Oh. Like... morning doves? No, game doves. More meat. Oh good, he said... more met.
Though he had been raised around guns, and shot them in his childhood, the thought of hunint always turned his stomach. He had shot at a skeet range a few times, and was considred to be a really good shot, but this, this was reall. Real birds. Real DOVES. Earelier that spring, a family of doves had laid and hatched e eggs on his balkany flower box. Hell, he practically cried when he saw thosf fuzzy, ugly little buys wabbling aroudn, and again when they finally took flight. They were so cute, so...
Dog's on pint, he new friend said. Get ready. With that, the soon to be inlaw killer shouldered his gun, and he flollowed suite. Saftey off, Finger on the trigger.
the hair trigger.
The recoild scared the shit of ouf him, almost more than the noise. The dog funped, the inlaw yelped, and doves scatterd into teh air. All eyes were on him.
Watch that trigger, you git. City boy...