My brother's and I all like to hunt. Each of us has pursued this passion in a different fashion. I figured that being a Veterinarian would help me get acquainted with a multitude of farmers who own land perfect for hunting on. One brother became a surgeon, figuring it would afford him the finances necessary to pursue his hunting dreams. Another brother is currently in Medical school finishing up a dermatology residency, he too hopes that this occupation will provide him with the means necessary to go hunting. Our other brother went to work for the division of wildlife resources in the hopes that his job would help him scout the best locations to hunt.
Each of us has met with varying success in our endeavors. Recently as I was arriving on a farm to vaccinate some cattle. I noticed that they had some geese that had landed in the field in front of their house. I pulled over, pulled my shotgun out from behind the seat. Snuck up as close as I could get before the geese took flight, then unloaded my gun at them. They all flew peacefully off into the distance. Hey, I said I loved hunting, I didn't say I was any good at it.
I then got back in the truck. Drove around the house, and parked near the chute. Here was the farmer with his two teenage daughters. Normally their younger brother is also there to help, as he loves anything to do with cows. So I ask "Where's Connor today?" "Oh, he's in the house pretending to be sick. But we know he's not. Because we just heard three gun shots in the front yard, and then watched a flock of geese fly over the house. The little turkey is "too sick" to help with the cows, but amazingly feels well enough to go hunting. Little brothers can be such a pain." "Yeah, I know what you mean, little brother's can be a real pain." "Oh, do you have brothers too." "As a matter if fact I have three of them. One is a surgeon, one is a dermatologist, and one works for the Division of Wildlife resources." "Wow! You have three Doctors in your family. What a smart group." "Too bad we weren't all as smart as the one who works for the DWR, he's the smart one in the family. He actually gets paid to hunt and fish. I'll call him and ask "What are you up to today Troy?" And he'll respond "Oh, we're doing a fish count today." "How exactly do you count fish?" I'll ask. "Well, you have to catch 'em he'll reply."
Then I decide to regale these girls with the tale of one of our recent hunting trips:
I'd found the perfect field. It was owned by one of my clients, and it had geese landing in it by the thousands. I'd obtained permission from the owner of the field to hunt in it. Then called my brothers. "You have to get out here! This is going to be a goose hunt you'll never forget!" Of course the doctors were too busy with work to make it. So it was just Troy and I. We'd set up our decoys and had just settled into our blind. Daylight had broken just a few minutes earlier, and already we could see the first wave of geese approaching us. That's when we noticed this rusty old pickup bouncing across the field towards us. Then he starts honking his horn. "Who is this jerk, my brother asks?" "Be nice" I reply. "This jerk is the man letting you hunt in his field."
"Hey Doc" the man yells as he gets out of his truck. "I need your help. One of my cows prolapsed her uterus this morning, I need you to come put it back in. Lucky thing, you were right here in my field." "Yeah, lucky thing." I reply, as I crawl into his truck with one last longing look at our goose blind.
The dairy is about half a mile from where I'd been hunting. As I lay in the mud and manure behind this cow, struggling to push the heavy, bloody uterus, back into the little round hole where it came from. I watch wave after wave of geese descend towards my brother's hunting spot. I'm also close enough to hear the shots that he's firing. "Wow, that's a lot of shots." I think. "He must be a worse shot than I am."
When I finally get the uterus returned to its rightful location, and get the cow back on her feet. The farmer returns me to my hunting location. I'm tired, muddy, bloody, and feel beaten. Yet I'm hopeful I can still manage to get a few geese. That's when I notice that my brother is cleaning up all the decoys. "What are you doing?" I ask. "We're done hunting." He replies. "We've both limited out already." He says with a satisfied grin on his face.
"You see" I tell the girls, "I know exactly what you mean about little brothers being a pain." "Wow" they reply "He really is the smart one in your family, isn't he." I never did tell them that their little brother really was in the house sick, and that it was me that had shot at the geese. As a little brother, I think he had it coming to him.
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