Two years ago, I had my leg in a cast for most of hunting season, but I continued to hunt as much as I could. I especially kept duck hunting. I would wrap my cast in plastic garbage bags and duck tape it so that I could walk on the mud. I could not wear waders though, so I had to rely on a partner to help me with the decoys. At that time, my dog Laverne was just a puppy, so we also had to fetch our own ducks most of the time, unless the wind blew them back toward us. Usually, my hunting partner was my son Bobby, who was only 13 at the time. Bobby had those youth size waders that had the boots attached to the waders, and he HATED to wade in them. Boot foot waders are great unless you work in mud. When you work in mud, the boots get stuck, your foot pulls out, and most often causes you to fall down. For that reason, Bobby did not like to wade, and did not hide his disdain.

On this particular hunt, it was a very cold and windy December day. Bobby was in a particulary foul mood when he woke up, and was already bitching and moaning about having to pick up the decoys. We pretty much argued all the way to the blind. I told him four or five times we could just pack it in, but I knew he loved to shoot, and was just in a crappy mood.

We set up on the south end of the lake, which at that time had a very high water level, and that had created a nice swampy, slough that really sucked in the ducks. Our "blind" was a large willow tree that had fallen on the bank, and lay parallel to the water. It worked really well. We shot a niced mixed bag of ducks early, and the wind was blowing hard enough to force the ducks to commit to the spread at least 100 yards out. As the sun rose in the sky, the hunting slowed down, and conditions became more "blue bird".

As we sat in the blind, and were thinking about packing up, a nice mallard drake flew overhead and landed about 200 yards north of our blind. Bobby was excited to see the mallard, but was in such a surly mood, he said something like "it figures he wouldn't land down here where you decided to hunt" (for those of you that know adolescent boys, they go through a stage where Dad is not only the dumbest creature on earth, he also NEVER does anything right). I looked Bobby right in the eye and said; "I tell you what, I will call that duck down here and he will land in our spread so you can kill him. If he does not come down here, I will leave those decoys and come back and get them with someone else. If he does come down here, you pick up the decoys. If you miss the duck, you still pick up the decoys". He said; "you have a bet, there is no way you can call that duck down here".

I picked up my call (a Haydel's double reed varitone), and started to call. As God is my witness, that mallard drake got off the water and flew........directly toward......us. He committed, cupped up, and worked to land right into our decoys. Bobby raised up with his single shot .20 ga., and dropped the mallard right there. He did not say a word as he got up to go retrieve that duck......but I rode him like a rented mule. I gave him such a hard time by saying stuff like; "who's your daddy!" and "looks like you will be "decoy boy" today!" (he hated that). I even made him stop and take a picture holding the mallard to prove my superiority. He was boiling mad at this point, and then it happened.......his boot got stuck in the mud.......and he fell in that freezing cold water. Let me tell you that it was cold that day, probably around 33 degrees with a very cold wind. I could hear the air rush out of his lungs when that cold water hit him. Now, the water was only about a foot deep, so there was no danger of him drowning, but that boy shot up out of that water and was angry. He got even more angry at the fact that I was laughing....at him! He yelled at me that he wasn't going to pick up those decoys, and that I was mean, and all the other stuff you can think of. He got so mad he was in tears.

Imagine how mad he was when I snapped another picture of him crying! He saw me get the camera, and pulled his face mask back down over his head to hide his shame!! It was great.

He eventually regained his composure, and much to my surprise, honored his bet, and picked up every single decoy out of that water. As soon as he got the decoys out, he did run for the truck, cranked it and ran the heater while I wrapped the decoy cords and put them in the bag.

I have included those two pictures from that day, and Bobby and I recently told that story when we took Oliver duck hunting and he wore those very same youth waders that Bobby has long since outgrown. Bobby told the story, and laughed and made fun of himself and the way he acted. I still laugh about it....especially when I see these pictures.

Images and Files: View all 2 photos / videos here.