“You are nothing but a show pony, Cobber,” I said to my curly as he came sauntering back to me with two ducks held firmly in his jaws.
Along with hunting mate Blake, we had just ambushed a rather large mob of ducks on a dam on a friend’s property.
THE dam had been literally covered with ducks and the hardest part was picking a couple of single birds when they rose as one on discovering our presence. With such a large selection to choose from it could have been a shade difficult, but as luck would have it a fat blackie was on the outer of the rising ducks and a bit slower. It was an easy shot at 30 metres. Blake must have scored the teal in similar circumstances for they were the two ducks floating on the water when the rest had gone.
My curly was quick to swim out after them on my command and must have thought it would save him an extra swim if he brought both ducks
