Well, it began this morning and before I did chores I ran upstairs to get out the blaze orange. No, I don’t hunt; I wear blaze orange to avoid being shot. There are conscientious hunters and there are drunken idiots out there. And this year I am not up to posting or policing. I started with Oscar.
It is tough on a dog when 355 days in a year he is encouraged to roam and bark and chase deer out of the garden, and 10 days a year he could be shot by neighbors for just doing his job.
Then there was me – a large target in a red Bemidji Woolen Mills wool jacket, but just to be sure…