Musings on Tomorrow's Shoot

The terriers are wrestling on the couch, and the night is late. Tomorrow begins early, and much of this evening has been spent in preparation for the day. It will be the third pheasant shoot of the season, and Tristan's first since his return from the war. Chuck will be by with Fat Leo the Labrador shortly after breakfast, and we will drive to Buckeye Pheasants, just west of Dayton, and Tristan will drive up from the university to meet us there. He has asked me to bring his grandfather's Model Twelve pump and the Uplander double, both in 16 gauge (his deceased grandfather's gauge of choice.) It will be interesting to see which gun he hunts with tomorrow. He handles a pump very well, but very agressively, like a Marine infantryman on patrol. The double by comparison is more of a gentleman's gun, slower and more deliberate. I often wonder how much the fleet stays with him, and his choice tomorrow might indicate where his heart truly resides. If he is anything like my dad, his grandfather, the fleet will never be far from his thoughts, even as the years make him more and more of a civilian. It is so very good to have him home at last.