My dad told me about a quail hunt he was on once. There was a railroad right-of-way that was near one of my grandfather's farms and back in those days you could hunt on it. My dad, my grandpa, and another man were walking along the right-of-way when a lone quail got up on their left and was crossing in front of them. The guy on the left fired and missed. The guy in the middle fired and missed. The guy on the right fired and missed. The quail was so panicked that it flew into the top wire of a barbed wire fence and killed itself.
I don't know how you decide who get's to carry that one back.
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