I'm on your heel's Destry at 39 ,and I too have vivid memory's from the early 80's of getting off the school bus in late fall ,running the last half mile to the house to grab my older brother's 12 bore single barrel topper & pulling on a pair of wicked heavy Black diamond knee rubber's...
Then it was on my old rickety ,hand me down ,found in the ditch 10 speed to Morgan's store,where a Canadian dollar would by me a Coke ,a foil bag of Hostess ketchup chip's ,a big Turk and a handful of jelly candy ...I was all of 12 I geuss ,not legal to carry a gun... but in my home town I would walk through the store with it broke over my arm ,a full belt of shell's ,and no one ,not a soul ever questioned my intent, the only query ever was "How'd ya do yesterday me son ,any bird's on the go ? rabbit's ?" (I'm from Newfoundland
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There was a gully we had to skirt to get to where the the bird's and rabbit's were, beaver gully we call it...every shaggin time I rounded the last little cove up came a lone duck ...and every time with out fail I would up gun and miss,how many shell's in christ's name did I throw at that duck with not a feather cut !!!
I alway's imagined he was the same old bugger year after year ,so wise ,so tough, and wicked enough to keep me out of range time after time.
Come to think on it,he had sharp teeth too ...or was it horn's ? none the less he was awful big
