Mike and I joined forces for nearly two weeks in Oregon, then I headed south and spent a final couple of days in the Mojave hunting chukar with my friend Bruce. After a couple weeks of daily work on wild birds my Setter Rosie was handling pretty well; in about 3 hours one morning she gave us nearly a dozen points on a half dozen covies. Exciting stuff. But I could tell it was time to go home from this picture ...
Bruce and I spent that afternoon annoying the ducks in a nearby marsh. The water was generally shallow, the bottom was generally hard, and I the rubber boots I was wearing had been adequate. Then I killed a mallard that fell into a "new" pond. First steps were fine, then I sank to mid-thigh in an invisible soft spot. With Bruce laughing in the background on the shore I lost my balance, fell to my left, and with a gargled "aaaargh" found myself horizontal, right arm clutching my gun above the water. Bruce says that if he had captured the video it would have a million hits on YouTube in the first 24 hours.
