one plucky duck

I flew to Venetie to help host an end of year celebration with C.J., the home visitor I hired a few months ago over there. As there are only two flights out a day, the last at 3:30pm, I had to spend the night. I pitched my tent in C.J.'s front yard.
At nine that night I headed out on the four wheeler with her and her husband, to hunt duck. Their black lab, Pepper raced along with us. And then she raced at us, right under the four wheeler, in fact. Abumpy thud later she rolled out from under the wheel and took off running again, as though nothing had happened.

When C.J.'s husband brought down the first duck over Black Fish lake it took a bit of convincing, but Pepper paddled out to retrieve the body and brought it right back. C.J. took the bird into the woods a bit and started ripping out feathers. Her husband brought down another Spoonbill, Pepper retrieved, and I stepped up to pluck.

The body still warm, the shot holes still bleeding, I yanked out down and feathers and cleaned off the whole body up the neck, wings and tail. I got pointers from C.J. and did pretty well. New skill number 27: duck plucking.