A family from the cowboy mounted shooting circuit has been training George for the past couple months. On Friday, Eric and the kids traveled to their house in North Central Ohio to retrieve George and take in some pheasant hunting. You read right.

I was concerned that I made the choice not to go....the baby, her naps, the 2 hour drive, the weather, etc. I figured the kids would get cold/bored and sit in the house all day. Soooo not the case. They were out there hunting and loving every minute of it.


Ally. She ain't no girlie-girl!!

The group.

Um, yeah. I can't tell you if I'm proud or mortified.

Ally designated herself the official pheasant carrier. Eric said she cradled one and while petting it said, "It just looks so lifeless." I asked her later what she meant by that. I kind of expected a philosophical answer like she had just seen it flying and now it was still. She said, "Well it's head just kept flopping around all over." She's a maniac.

They came home from this trip with souvenir pheasant feet and blood all over their clothes. Their instructions were to.. ..go ahead and tell Mom how much fun you had...in VERY LITTLE DETAIL. Thank God.

*Oh, and about 20 yards from their destination, the wheel fell off the trailer!! They were able to scrounge enough parts to get it back on for the trip home. The rolling turd came through, I guess. I have never felt more hillbilly in all my life.