Adventures, Sarcasm, Dead Animals, and A Bunch of Fish: The Raid on Duck Beach

So I haven't been writing much lately because I feel like I'm just repeating myself- like, oh hey I'm Molly- I go duck hunting, get chased by moose, and am literally obsessed with my dog. But, some of you are still reading so I'll keep blabbing. The other day Keta and I went to the park and we were playing fetch and got chased by a hormone pumped bull moose for about a quarter mile. I locked us in a baseball dugout and fed Keta snacks until the moose walked like 100-200 yards from us (of course, he walked where I would have liked to to get home easily) then we ran all the way home (like a mile). All of this, naturally, happened after Keta and I had already jogged for 45 minutes in the park. Damn moose. So I actually got my duck hunting license and my first day out with it I shot 2 mallards, a fat female and drake. I was so proud of myself since I'm using one of my dads old guns that like, malfunctions constantly. You fire off one shot, knock a duck down a little, and go to finish it with the second shot and oh! the safety clicked on, sorry you suck. It's very frustrating! We went out the other morning with our friends and their pup and there were ducks landing EVERYWHERE by the ocean and I'm all like "lets get em!". Scott's like "See, I created a monster"- Now, I wouldn't consider myself a monster because my killing ducks % is like 5% chance I will shoot one. More like creating another idiot with a gun. So we all go trudging out to the ocean, the ducks see us, and all fly away. So the next day Scott and I go out alone and again, the ducks are all waddling around the beach eating snacks having a jolly old time. Since we learned from our last mistakes, we decided to crawl through swamp hell for a quarter mile to these ducks- talk about exhausting. Getting my ass low enough to the ground is a challenge enough, nevermind going across little rivers while crawling with a gun in your hand. I had to like frog squat and hop across- we weren't messing around. So we finally get to about 30 yards from the ducks, we were going to crawl another 10 yards and open fire on duck beach. I was getting so excited- I could see literally hundreds of ducks waddling around and like, I thought ya know maybe I could get 2 or 3! So we had about 2 more minutes of crawling before we were going to open fire, and all of a sudden BOOM. Some asswad shot at a duck WAY too high for him to shoot and he scared literally every single duck out to sea. We tried to shoot the ducks but they were still too far to get a good shot, especially flying frantically. Poor Keta goes rippin out to where the ducks were and was like "ummmm what happened!?" To say I was pissed would be an understatement- I threw an all out tantrum in the marsh. You know that scene in "I Love You Man" when the guy lets his dog poop on the beach, doesn't pick it up, someone steps in it and he just starts screaming? Yeah, that was me. Full out lumberjack howling in the marsh. Scott's all calm like "aw man shit happens" and I'm standing in the marsh waving my gun screaming "WHOEVER YOU ARE I'M GOING TO SHOOT YOU IN THE FACE! YOU SAW US CRAWLING THROUGH THIS SHITTY MARSH YOU M%#)$&RF*#$%@". I think I may have embarrassed the boyfriend-problem with bringing women hunting: we are emotional as hell. We don't army crawl through a shithole marsh to have someone ruin it for us. I think the guy grasped that there was a very angry woman with a shotgun in the marsh out to get him because I didn't hear another shot all day. He was like "Oh shit, menstral rage, I'm getting the hell outta here!". So we flailed around in the hellhole swamp for 4 more hours after that, Scott shot 8 ducks, I shot 1/2 ducks (wing shot on one, Scott finished it and blew it to smitherines). But, on the cool side, we saw a big ass bull moose the day we went out with our friends, and I got pictures, and he didn't chase me. Win!