Frankly Funny

Each year in September, a mysterious urge seizes some Texans (most of whom are men). An internal call, one I’ve obviously never heard, drives these people from their air-conditioned homes and out into the blazing heat. Dressed like Special Ops troops, they journey to faraway fields to find the universal symbol of peace—the dove—and promptly shoot it.

If you can think of any explanation for this bizarre behavior, please write and share it with me. Otherwise, I’m left to draw my own possibly misinformed conclusions. I have no real experience with this sport because the only hunting my husband does this time of year takes place on new car dealer lots.

But a lack of experience has never prevented me from waging an opinion. So here’s my theory about the origins of dove hunting. Maybe the guy who invented the slingshot felt the need to target practice on something. (Boredom can be such a destructive force.) And the spots on a mourning dove’s back just looked enticing. For historical reference, this would have occurred sometime around the year 1000 BBB (Before Beer Bottles).

Anyway, like I was saying, I can’t tell you why we’re still taking aim at doves today. If you think about it, dove hunting equates to a whole lot of time, effort, and expense for something that basically tastes like chicken.

These harmless birds don’t compete with man in any way, and unlike their larger cousin, the pigeon, they’ve never once been accused of overthrowing anyone’s shopping center management.

Yet, some people might have a distasteful view of the cooing, monogamous dove. I mean, who wants to hear that repetitious calling to a wayward mate so early in the morning? And what can be made of a male bird that sits on a nest all day feeding its young? Such an anomaly could challenge some folks’ ideas of gender roles.

But aside from any satisfaction derived from knocking off a few henpecked husbands (the winged ones, that is), I find no discernable reason for this sport.

From a financial standpoint, a meal of grilled dove will cost you more than dinner at The Ritz. A single (or married) dove yields only one ounce of meat, all of it dark. This means that to feed a family of four, a hunter would have to bag at least two dozen fowl. And depending on the gunner’s thirst quencher of choice, that could take anywhere from two days to several seasons.

Texas Parks and Wildlife estimates that five million dove are bagged annually in Texas. Yet statewide, hunters spend $5-10 million on shotgun shells during dove season. So for every dove killed, at least one to two dollars’ worth of ammo has been purchased. And the expenses don’t stop there.

First, there’s the 20-gauge shotgun. Then, there’s the apparel that distinguishes hunters from the rest of us who dress to avoid being accidentally shot. Add in the land use and license fees, any overnight stays, and gasoline expenses, and those birds’ feet might as well be banded with platinum. Tally all that with the related beverage expenses, and the total price per pound of dove meat exceeds the cost of college tuition (including books).

Of course, my husbands’ hobby during early fall isn’t exactly cheap. There’s only one short showroom step between a test drive and a new car purchase, and often he takes it. That’s why during dove hunting season, we’ll be eating chicken.

Excerpted from the book, Driving on the Wrong Side of the Road: Humorous Views on Love, Lust, & Lawn Care, by Diana Estill.