I spent my 8th grade year living in Bucklin, KS. My grandfather, my dad's dad, loved to hunt. We'd sit on the fender of his old Buick and my grandmother would drive down the country roads and we'd shoot dove off of the wires, or flying. We'd also get pheasants when they flushed from the brush alongside the road. Jack rabbits were thick. I'd shoot them with an ancient 22 bolt gun of some kind. We didn't eat the jacks, but we did the cotton tails. The meadowlarks sang a constant song. The last time I was out there, in 2010, I didn't see a'one.
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