Opening Day

Yesterday was opening day of dove season. This was the biggest day of the year in our family, when Anthony was here. There was great preparation the night before, then awake at 4 am on September 1, to meet up with the other hunters, for a day of shooting and testosterone spiked camraderie.

It was hysterical to watch the dogs go crazy, simply at the sight of Anthony taking out the guns. Yogi especially. When Anthony entered the living room with gun in tow, Yogi would run back and forth, from living room to garage door. He knew what that gun meant, and he loved hunting with Anthony. He was a tireless dog, willing to push it as long as Anthony wanted to hunt. Missy, on the other hand, wasn't as enthusiastic a hunter. Anthony said she was more distracted by the other dogs, and behaved as if she really didn't like carrying birds in her mouth. Hello, Missy!!! You're a weimaraner!!! You're bred for this!!! Oh well.

Anthony was also the camp chef for all the men, so the night before opening day, I was his prep chef. As he got his guns ready, vest packed with shotgun shells, and ice chest cleaned, I was cutting Monterey Jack cheese into small cubes, only big enough to fit into the breast of a dove. De-seeding jalapenos, careful not to rub my eye during the process. The first year I did this, I quickly learned it was important to wear gloves, because the juice ate away at the tips of my fingers until they were raw. I cut pounds and pounds of bacon into 4 inch slices, peeled garlic cloves and packed everything into tidy plastic containers that would travel to a location unknown to me.

The alarm would go off sometime between 3:30 and 4:00 am... I would make sure Anthony was awake, then stay awake long enough to wave from the garage door as he drove off with Rocky and Jake, almost in giggles... THEM, not me!!! My favorite part of opening day, was closing the garage door behind them, and knowing I would have a day of quiet to myself.

Jake was always a part of this annual adventure, and learned to look forward to it and revel in it as much as his dad. In fact, the first opening day, after Anthony had died, it warmed my heart at the number of men who called here for Jake, to be sure he was included in the event, and had a place to hunt. Even more than that, Jake insisted we get all the ingredients because HE was going to take over his dad's role as the chef. So, for Jake, I sliced bacon, cubed cheese, deseeded jalapenos, and peeled garlic. I was so proud of him.

Anthony took Jake dove hunting the first time when Jake was only 3 1/2. We didn't have any of our hunting dogs yet, so I think he was going to teach Jake to "retrieve." He told Jake to pick up the bird, carry it to the bucket, and put it into the bucket. As Jake was carrying it, he kept saying to his dad, "It wants to fly!" Anthony assured Jake the bird no longer wanted to fly, but Jake said it a couple more times. When Jake put the bird into the bucket, lo and behold, it flapped a couple of times, then fluttered it's way out of there!!! LOL I guess Anthony had only stunned it, yet Jake did as his dad instructed, even though the bird was trying to fly away from him!

Jake went out yesterday, as his own man. This year he did not join his dad's croonies. This year, Jake had his own invitation from someone who owns "good" property. Jake came over to get the shotgun out of our gun safe. This year, I did not go with Jake so he could buy his hunting license or shells. This year, Jake hunted as his own man. And, I knew not to call him last night, because he would be asleep. Exhausted from getting up at 4 am to be out in the field as the sun rose.

I hope Anthony watched his son. His "best boy" as he always called him. His man.