Special memories are made while partaking in a classic upland bird hunt for two.
Story and photography by Nate Skinner

The pointer did his job well. His name was “J.J.” and he was “on point.”
With his nose aimed towards the ground at a tall clump of grass, his rear leg trembled with pent up excitement, almost as if it were being shocked. There was no doubt a covey of game birds were hidden — hunkered before him. The locked-up dog took everything about being “birdy” to a whole new level.
On command, a black lab was next on the scene as he barged into the tall bunch grass like a bull in a china cabinet. Immediately a small covey of three quail flushed from the ground seemingly from right under our noses. Their wings cut the cool moist air as a pair flew to the right in my direction giving a textbook shot opportunity, while a single flushed to the left much more quickly, however I did not shoulder my shotgun. Instead I was captivated by a unique scene in which my hunting companion swung perfectly on the escaping bird and brought it to the ground with her first pull of the trigger. It was a beautiful sight, almost surreal, not to mention she was pretty easy on the eyes.
An uproar of cheers immediately followed from both my mouth and hers as she made her very first wing shot while harvesting a bobwhite quail. At that moment we both became kids again, jumping around with the excitement and innocence of a child. We were partaking in a classic sport full of tradition, that was as seemingly as old as the ground we walked. I couldn’t have been a more proud husband. On this day I took my wife hunting.

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