Everyone knows coots are not the smartest birds in the waterfowl arena. Mix in a little, did I say a little, I meant a lot of fog and they loose their senses even more! We run up on this bunch of coots wide open before they start to fly. I heard at least 30 heads thump the front hull of the boat! I don't mean light taps either, we are talking sounds like some one is taking full swings with a hammer! I'm holding the Q-beam and dodging left, then right then left again to avoid getting my eyes poked out or worse, getting knocked out of the boat. All the while hoping that the boat driver doesn't turn hard right, while I am dodging hard left! As I begin to get used to sights and sounds that are occuring around me, I see one coot jump up and plot a course to fly right over the front of the boat. We'll I take aim and swat the sun of a gun, like a professional volleyball player going for a spike to win a gold medal in the olympics! Bingo! I hit him and to my amazement he is in the bottom of the boat.
I pick him up and apparently those funky legs are some sort of defense weapon as he immediately begins to scratch and claw at my hand like he is weilding some ginsu knives! I quickly decide to throw him in the live well, so that I can show the rest of our hunting party my great prize! NO I HAD NOT BEEN DRINKING, at least not yet, although I did have to pour some whiskey on the wounds inflicted by the creatures funky little legs!
We arrive at the blind and announce that we have a suprise to show our blind mates. Everyone listens to the story, remember I have an eye witness, the boat driver, and they buy it although they are a bit amazed. We did utlimately let the little guy go and he safely swam back to join his mates out on the mud flats. Sure he will have quite the story to tell the grandkids a few years from now.
Let me know if you are going to take up the sport, I might be able to give a few pointers!
too ~!@#$%^&*()*&^%$#@!~ funny...
