The dummy line

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“Hurry up, Katy,” Jake Crosby called out as he took a wet tennis ball from his aged Lab, Scout. “We won’t have enough time to build a fire and roast marshmallows if we don’t get going.”

What am I thinking? he told himself. You can’t hurry a nine-year-old.

Katy had really taken an interest in the outdoors. She loved to hunt and fish and found fun in the smallest things. She would giggle for hours playing with crappie minnows or crickets. Katy had killed her first deer at seven, making a perfect shot on a small buck. This qualified her as a full-fledged member of the hunting fraternity…or maybe sorority. Anyway, she loved to go with her dad, and Jake gladly modified his hunting habits to accommodate her. Introducing Katy to the sights and sounds of the woods was a pleasure-a blessing. Katy’s motivation was to “outdo” the boys in her class. She relished this competition. And Jake did his part to make sure she was successful. By eight, she had caught several limits of rainbow trout and a boatload of bass, killed four deer, and been on several successful duck hunts. Jake was raising a tomboy, and he loved it. On this trip, he was hoping to call up a gobbling turkey. If it would walk up struttin’ and drummin’ and put on a show, Katy would be hooked. This weekend she was going to experience what turkey hunting was all about.

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