doublegunshop.com - home Forums General Discussion DoubleGun BBS @ doublegunshop.com A dog named.....Hillary

Today we were at a public field which was more crowded that I want to shoot as a norm. There were defined shooting spots and it was a draw to shoot field, so while full, everyone was required to be within ten feet of his assigned spot. Corn for cover, bush hogged sunflowers on one side, bush hogged light wheat with weeds on the other side with a good border of trees and bushes around the field. In previous years this field had provided full limits in less than two hours. Well today it was very slow and few birds flew for several hours. But I love listening the the banter of shooter in the field.

The best by far today was the shooters next to me to the left and the fellow on his other side with a Lab. First they discussed how many MoJo dove birds each had, three verses four. Then they each complained about the other fellow shooting birds almost in front of the shooting position next to them. Then it got rather funny when the dog named Dixie, a yellow lab, started running out of control.

Don't get me wrong I love dogs but in a crowded dove field your dog must be under control. This one was not. Every time it saw a bird go down it went to retrieve it, even if the bird was five pegs down field. Worse there were three other better controlled dogs trying to retrieve birds for their owner. The Lab would not stay, would not come on command, would not sit or heel. It was having a good old time, running across the field retrieving birds.

After about the tenth, maybe twentieth retrieve of a bird shot by others the fellow next to me asked the dogs owner why he called the dog Dixie? Said he should have named it Hillary. Why Hillary the owner asked? Well simple was the reply. The dogs was female, would not do what it should do, or was told, would not listen, would not respond to even the most basic command, would not stop doing what it wanted to do and was obviously smarter than the man who brought her to the field. Yep he said that's Hillary in a dog form. Fat rear end, blonde hair and all. I can't post the reply but when everyone in ear shot cheered, I had to laugh. A dog named Hillary indeed.

Bill and Hilly decide to take a week-end campaign trip, to rural upstate New York State. They rent a big well trained black Lab, and plan to visit the "Mom and Pop" stores and have a wet one in a local bar, or two. So Sat. afternoon, early Fall, Bill and Hilly and "Bucky" the well trained black Lab are in West Bumblee Falls, in Shortie's Bar and Grill (not Grille, by the way) at the bar, having a brewski and making nice-

A farmer dressed in Carhartt walks in, pats Bucky on the head, and then lifts up his tail- then shakes his head and walks back to join his pals by the shuffleboard table. Merle Haggard's "Big City" is playing on the jukebox, a la the opening scene in the movie "Fargo"-- This same scenario happens 3 more times in the next half hour, Bucky seems nonplussed by the whole series of events.

Hilly finally asks Bill- "Bill, is this tail-lifting on dogs in bars some kind of local tradition? Why don't you buy a pitcher of Bud and take it back to the men by the shuffleboard table and ask them.. Bill agrees, pays for the pitcher and walks back with it to the locals seating at a table, two are playing cribbage.

Bill sets the brew down and says: "Drink up, folks, this is from both me and Hillary. We really like your small town ways, but please, tell me, what is the deal with lifting our dog's tail, then shaking the head and walking away? I've never seen that ever in my life."

"Well thanks for the beer, Mr. President, mighty thoughty of you and the Missus- as for the dog business, well that's easy. A little before we got here, we were across the street at Harbison's Feed and Seed- and old Elmer said: "Hey you guys, you all duck hunt and like retrievers, right? Well, go over to the bar and check out this fine looking black Lab with two assholes."

Bill Clinton was driving past the White House when he accidentally ran over the Obama�s dog, Sunny, crushing it flat as a pancake.

He climbed out of his Rolls and sat down on the grass totally distraught.

He knew Michelle would go ballistic.

Then he noticed a lamp half-buried in the ground. He dug it up, brushed it off and immediately a genie popped out.

�You have freed me from thousands of years of imprisonment,� said the genie. �As a reward I shall grant you one wish.�

�Well,� said Bill, �I have all the material things I need, but let me show you this damned dog over here.�

They walk over to the splattered remains of Sunny. �Is there any way you could bring this dog back to life for me?� Bill asked.

The genie looked at the remains and shook his head. �This dog is too far gone for even ME to bring it back to life. Maybe there�s something else you�d like?�

Bill thought for a minute, reached into his pocket and pulled out two photos. �I had an affair with this beautiful young girl named Monica,� said Bill, showing the genie the first photo.



�But I�m actually married to THIS woman named Hillary,� as he showed the genie the second photo. �You see, Hillary isn't beautiful at all, so do you think you can make her look like Monica?�



The genie looked at the two photographs for a few seconds and said, �Mmmmmm � Let me take another look at that dog.�

Lordy, Lordy, you guys are killing me - I have a heart condition - please stop before I die laughing.

Good ones guys.

Well,two more names to ignore.
Why don't we enjoy the sport and leave the politics out of it?

We'd all like to but the politicians keep making that more and more difficult.

This was not a joke it was a true event on a Dove hunt. And if you have ever been around a dog out of control you would understand what a pain they can be for everyone around them. A joy to watch when well trained and a comedy when running out of control, like this one. The owner even pleaded with the dog at times like he never learned who was supposed to be in charge. I thought it was a cleaver way for the person to point out the dogs failings without getting nasty or cursing which never is a good thing to do when hunting.

You have to be pretty thin skinned and limp wristed to get your panties in a wad over a couple Clinton jokes.

Either that, or just another self-proclaimed gun guy who supports and defends anti-gun politicians...

If you haven't been IGNORING me before this justin, you must have been living under a rock. So happy I could piss you off!

Yup- great article covering that, and gun safety as well in recent issue of the DU magazine. Also a touch on this topic on gunning etiquette in recent issue of SS magazine- your best friend has a 100 yard long ranging flushing dog, no more in control than Sarah Brady at a NRA convention- but he has the exclusive access to some of the bird laden private farms that no one else can hunt but himself and his guest- But you spend all of a late October day admiring the foliage and counting the $ you have saved by not shooting, and watch rooster after rooster sail on out of sight- what do you do? What can you say?