Goose Hunting is nothing like I’ve ever experienced. It all began before dawn as Troy, Zena, and I ran around a field placing goose decoys in strategic positions. Once satisfied, we got changed and settled into our ground blinds, just in time to watch the sky light up.
Unlike deer hunting, goose hunting is a very social experience. We sat around, talking and laughing. When geese could be heard in the distance, we ducked into our blinds and Troy began calling. At first the geese gave us a wide berth and settled into the field adjacent to us.
Troy kept working the call and before long, geese were coming in closer. He told us “No sky busting, I’ll let you know when to take them”. Geese came in closer, circling round and round. We let one group pass that was a little too far out. Then the next group came close, circled and came in again. This time they were so close that you could hear the wind making a sizzling sound over their wings. “Not yet, wait… they’ll circle one more time then come in to land, then take them!”
We were in our blinds for less than an hour when the shots rang out. Troy hit one goose and I hit another. The flock scattered and we jumped out of the blinds. “Circle around, if you have to soot him again you want to be firing away from the road.”
I reloaded my shotgun and set out, looking for my goose. As I got close, a shot rang out. Troy finished his goose and mine was in sight. As I crept closer, the goose began to move. I wanted to get close to take the final shot. I spooked it, the goose flapped its wings and managed to get about three feet off the ground. Troy yelled out, “Shoot him!”
I took another shot but missed. Fortunately, the goose didn’t get far before touching back down. This time I didn’t try to get so close. I took a well aimed shot at its head and the goose went down. Being the first animal I’d ever shot, I was very concerned about making an ethical kill. The goose was flopping around and just to be sure, I took another well aimed shot at its head.
The goose stopped flopping and turned to twitching. I walked up to it, gave it a nudge with my foot, and calmed down. My goose was dead. I grabbed it by the foot and carried it back to the truck. It was very weird feeling it twitch as I carried it, its skin warm to the touch.
When I got back to the blind I was greeted with a smile. “Is there anything left of that goose?”. I explained what happened and was told I did good. It wasn’t perfect but I’m very proud to bring meat to my table. At about eight to ten pounds, my goose will be good eating.
We sat for another hour before watching the geese make their way back to the lake. We weren’t presented with another opportunity and called it a day. The actual goose hunting was the easy part. We headed over to Troy’s house for a lesson on cleaning and butchering.
I opted to breast out my goose for easier cooking (I love the idea of cooking it in a crock pot). My goose had a bit of age on it and was tough to skin. Removing the meat was a challenge but I’m confident I’ll get the hang of it after a few more.
I had a fantastic time and can’t thank Troy and Zena enough for allowing me to join them.
As you would imagine, I don’t have a ‘nice’ photo of my goose to share with you (overkill may be an understateent). Instead, I’ll show you what is now in my freezer.
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