I'd like to start the day in a comfortable blind with my grandfather shooting a limit of black ducks and mallards, all retrieved beautfully, enthusiastically and stylishly by my dog Ruby. We'd limit out by 9 and head to one of those fantastic family-run country restaurants for steak and eggs, then change up to our upland gear and then head to some wild fields and hunt the edges of a mature mixed forest for spruce grouse. Ruby would put up a limit of grouse that would explode out of heavy cover, quartering away over the edge of the field to be sent tumbling to be retrieved by the dog by our finely crafted custom over/under 28 guages. Ruby would make bouncing, playful retrieves in the long grass and my grandfather would pick off a beautiful double. We wouldn't comment on it, letting it go like it was an everyday event, but only because no words could make the moment any better. We'd head back to the Inn for a couple of fresh ham and cheese sandwiches on soft white bread and my grandfather would grab a quick nap while I cleaned some birds with Ruby passed out at my feet in the sunshine. With everyone fed and rested, we'd head out in the warm afternoon light into a set of nice small mixed-crop fields with dense headgerows inbetween, having switched the barrels over to 20 gauge. Ruby would work deep into the cover, her tail a constant helicopter as she put up a lovely mix of hen and rooster pheasants, just to keep things intersting. My grandfather would get two fine roosters before slinging his shotgun over his shoulder to trudge happlily along beside me. I'd watch Ruby work a tuft of grass for 5 minutes, trusting her signals that there really was a bird in there. When the rooster finally explodes from cover I'd fold him cleanly and have Ruby retrieve it. As we collect ourselves to head back to the truck Ruby would surprise up by running back to the tuft to put up another big rooster. Caught off guard I'd slip to my full-choke barrel, take a generous lead at 50 yards and make the greatest shot of my life, feeling the gun buck and roar to send the bird tumbling. I don't ask for much.