Doggo and I have plans to take a road trip.
Yup, we're going west to chase pheasants in South Dakota along with some of our pals. This will be her third trip and who knows what it is for me. Three dogs later I've lost track.
Most days our walk now includes a shell vest for me and Mr. Browning accompanies us. You just might have an opportunity to shoot something for dinner.
For the dog it's mostly about the routine. She knows that as soon as I go for my boots the pacing begins. Donning a shell vest the pacing intensifies. Strapping-on the e-collar is further confirmation. Grabbing Mr. Browning from the bench leads to a rush for the door.
Wisconsin's pheasant opener is in a couple of weeks. Between now and then there is a possibility of kicking up a grouse, doodle bird or wing shooting some doves.
Which is why The Frau calls it hunting. If it was easy it would be called shopping.
Meanwhile, from Friday's walk there was this.
I'm not sure if Ruby is laughing or grinning...












