Well gentlemen, forgive me for the late response. Work has been wide ass open and turkey season is here, so I have been burning the candle at both ends. I have not had the all time life record success as Boozer, I think he made a deal with devil, but I have sent two 3 year old birds to heaven. The first was what Hart refers to as a "traditional" hunt, where the seasoned veteran was upended at 9 steps. The 2nd bird we had spotted and decided to pull the "Mohican Sneakin' " to set up 125 yards from the gobbler and his bitches. Half an hour into the hunt after calling and even gobbling, I decided to see if he was still there. I eased around and spotted his neon white head in full strut close to his hizzzooes, 85 yards or so away from the Ninjas. Well earlier in the morning I had to answer 3 calls from Senator Grahams office, due to some urgent matters they are helping me resolve. I literally had 3 conversations while sitting at the base of a tree, unconventional would be putting it mildly. I had numerous emails, calls, and so on that were truly beginning to pile up. At the hour mark I told Hart that I would ease over and see if they were still there, closer, further, or gone. Well my initial take from glassing the hedgerow and field was that they were gone, and I saw his fan in the thicket leaving at 160 yards. Son of a bitch, I turned to Hart and gave him a shrug and look conveying the sentiment that we just wasted an hour and I don't know why we suck. I took 3 more steps to see if he may be hugging the hedgerow so tightly that I couldn't see him, BAM, there he is with his little hookers. He stuck his head up to what appeared a yard off of the ground. I didn't jerk, hesitate, contemplate, or just stand there. I shouldered the gun as though a woodie was coming over the top of some cypress trees and just shot instinctively, good night Irene. No, it was not the most conventional way nor comparable to what Tom Kelly would depict in one of his illustrious books. But it was the reality of a modern day turkey hunter being pulled by work commitments and his insatiable appetite to just chase this glorious bird, it was just time to make it happen and go on with the work day. In regards to my altruistic nature and the gifting of my mid-morning prize, my brother Isaac knows that nothing goes better with a Colt 45 than a wild turkey and I was not going to deny him one of life's greatest pleasures. I was in the Lowcountry hunting turkeys with a good buddy, smoked a turkey in a rather unique non-chalant manner, ate lunch at the Glass Onion, and got all of my work tasks completed. Life is grand and I sure as hell don't deserve it to be this good. Keeping real in the 843, peace out Ninjas.
Michael Todd Lalich
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