Pearls on a String

Reveries of birds, dogs & the uplands

I had a grouse mounted a few seasons ago. A ruffed grouse, I mean. The funny thing is, having a grouse mounted-or any other gamebird, for that matter-was about the furthest thing from my mind. I suppose I'd given it a fleeting thought through the years, but never what you'd call serious consideration. But as I was about to clean this particular bird, lying breast-up in my lap, its perfection struck me like a slap upside the head. There was hardly a feather out of place-I'd made the retrieve myself, the dog having gone temporarily AWOL-and no visible bloodstains other than a faint crust on the beak.

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