Late this afternoon we heard from down the road some noises that sounded suspiciously like gunfire. Shortly thereafter a neighbor of ours came driving along the road in his ATV, with his son and daughter (approx. 12 and 14 years old, maybe) seated beside him. The daughter was holding a shotgun. I love it that stuff like that is totally normal here. She kept it safely pointed at all times, and maintained proper trigger discipline. That kid was raised right.
Turns out in celebration of the son passing his hunter's education class, they'd gone dove hunting. September is dove season here, and there are plenty to go around. I was somewhat surprised when they offered to give us the four birds they'd gotten. But after a brief lesson in cleaning doves, we found ourselves with the makings of a dove dinner, shown here in glorious multicolor as portrayed by my Poverty Phone's alleged camera. The dove breasts are the blobby brown things sitting on top of the blobby green things. They tasted much better than the picture suggests.
It's difficult to eat much more than just the breasts on a dove, so the cats and dog gladly took care of the leftovers. Eeny here wasn't too keen to share, but eventually allowed her remaining siblings to nose their way in.