The other day I was hunting pheasants along with other upland birds and Mike and his friend, Marlon, were dragging along behind. I, however, was springing into action, nabbing birds out of the air!

Anyway, the place had that classic Here’s Your Sign! appeal. I spotted a sharp-tailed grouse sitting atop a fencepost by the road. It’s open season on those birds and Mike finally got the hint — Hunt Here! OK, I know he is slow but he finally got out, loaded his shotgun and started walking. In short order, I had a dozen birds — all sharpies — in the air and then I heard a shotgun roar to life. Marlon reported dead bird, so I headed to his location and sprang into action. I was in the area where he pointed, and I smelled a bird.

Just as I was zeroing in on that downed bird’s location, it sprang to life and took to wing. In true Olympic pole-vaulting fashion, I sprang forth in pursuit and leapt high into the air where I caught the escaping bird. I felt like a majestic eagle, soaring through the air to capture a bird on the wing. I’ll contact the Olympic Committee and see if this can be a new sport category. Expect me to try for the team, har har!

After the fleeing bird capture event, I think I actually heard Mike and Marlon applauding. It’s about time I receive recognition for my contributions to hunting. If I did not find, point and retrieve birds, Mike may starve to death — or begin eating my crunchy or treats. Not good.

After the bird capture event, I have decided I also need a pay raise. Bird hunting has become work and only the strong survive. I’m beginning to think I can hunt well without Mike. Oh wait, he needs to drive the truck. Guess I am stuck hunting with him. —Cameron