Last nite as I was falling asleep I heard my Scully bark that special yip that said, "Lemme in, I'm done in the yard." I bailed outa bed looking for slippers only to realize she has been gone from this world for 10 months. Around 4 a.m. I gave up on sleep. I put on camo, dug out the shotgun, grabbed a few calls and my license and went out. I headed for a "sure thing" roost site and arrived late as usual. I had to walk almost exactly under the roost trees to get in, but I got lucky. About 45 minutes later the Benelli roared and a bull turkey bit the dirt. And rolled. Downhill. Almost a cliff, really. And kept rolling. And rolling.
I finally got to the bottom of the ravine and found the bird. The fat 3 yr old was piled up in a spot where years ago Scully and I spent a very special moment together that illustrates the very best part of her personality. 7 years ago, that very spot, similar situation. It was meant to be.
When I was grieving over the loss of this dog, someone in here told me she would come back to me from time to time. I told him I have no belief in that sense. Maybe I'd just dead wrong again as usual.
