Twas the Night Before the Opener

Twas the night before the opener, when all through the shop

The hunters were hoping to avoid an opener flop

The blind was prepped and brushed with care

In hopes that flocks of mallards soon would be there

The decoys were nestled all snug in the boat

The waders were hung on the wall by my coat

And Jim in his waders, and I in my boots

Were busy rigging up another dozen coots

Early the next morning the alarm bells rang

I sprang from my bed and roused the gang

We made coffee stout enough to power a tractor

And I feared TP would soon become a factor

I drove to the boat ramp quick as a flash

And forgot to plug the boat, my thinking was too rash

The water rushed in, I yelled “pull it out!”

Jim stepped on the gas, I sat there in a pout

After draining the water and installing the plug

We launched the boat again, looking rather smug

Crank, crank, crank, why won’t it start!

Did you prime the bulb you dusty old fart?!

Finally underway, we motored across the lake

Pulling up to the blind, I jumped out with a decoy stake

With the clouds overhead, of the moon I caught a peak

And stepped into the water to discover my waders had a leak

After setting the spread, I poured water from my boot

Jim thought that sight to be quite a hoot

With cold, wet feet, but an anxious heart

I waited for the daily flights to start

I began to shiver, and turned on the heater

Jim chomped on a biscuit, he’s a big eater

When what to my wondering eyes should appear

But the first flight of ducks for the year

Now teal, now widgeon, now mallard and wood duck

On speck, on bluebill, on redhead and goose cluck

Out front, on the right, Jim go easy with the call

Now blast away, blast away, blast away all!

Our volley went up, but no ducks dropped down

I looked at Jim with a knowing frown

We’d neglected our practice, we hadn’t shot skeet

Both of us hung our heads in defeat

As the morning drew on, my tummy began to growl

I looked at the rusty skillet with a scowl

In lighting the gas cooker, I singed off most of my hair

The ensuing fireball pouring smoke into the air

For a bit, the situation looked pretty dire

But with stomping and splashing, we put out the fire

I asked Jim about cleaning the skillet for health’s sake

He said he washed it out with water from the lake

When in the duck blind, you work on certain terms

Here’s hoping the heat will kill all those germs

Jim took over cooking, he’s a pretty good guy

And after eating we turned our eyes back to the sky

The spinning wing decoys look really good

Why is that one not working like it should?

“One wing fell off!” Jim exclaimed in a huff

Our opening day is starting off pretty rough

We wade out and feel around with our feet

I feel something, I found the wing!  That’s pretty sweet!

How will we reach it?  Someone’s sleeve is getting wet.

I figure this is how I’ll pay off my fire debt

Now with wet socks, pants, and shirt I settle back in the blind

But I’m a true duck hunter, being cold and wet I don’t mind

At least the ducks are still flying around

And it’s time we put a few on the ground

Group after group swings by in range

Even though Jim’s calling is quite strange

Despite ourselves we scratch out a few

And by 11 that morning we are through

As the feathers floated all around

We loaded the gear on the boat in a mound

Those fancy new shells with the non-toxic alloy

Had put neat holes through more than one decoy

We motored on back, recounting our day

And the many things that didn’t go our way

But we’ll be back again tomorrow alright

Happy opener to all, and to all a good night