I grew up hunting with my Grandpa and Uncle in Johnsons Bayou. My grandpa had a lot of shotguns. One was a Tecumseh 12 gauge. He never would take it out. He always said it kicked to much. One morning we get to the lease and he pulls out the old shotgun. We make to to the blind. Just at shooting time a teal come flying at us at a 100 mph. Grandpa throws up his shotgun and fires. All I see out of the corner of my eye is him flying out the back of the blind. Glasses flying and him falling. After we made sure he was okay, I volunteered to switch guns with him. He was cussing and we were laughing. Not many ducks killed that day. But 30 years later, me and my brother still sit around laughing about that. Great memories.
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