My first hunt was grouse, and it was a spectacular failure!
I went to go out with my brother, an experienced hunter. He took me to an area of crownland known for grouse. We both had remington 870s, but his was 20g, mine was 12.
We hunted those woods all day long! 8 hours, walked over 14km, and only had a few missed shots to show for it.
We were trudging back to the truck, he was about 15' ahead of me, when we saw this big dumb grouse just standing there in the middle of the trail about 30' ahead.
My brother, on lead, quickly aimed and fired.
Now, maybe if i'd trusted his years of military training a bit more, i never would have thought that he missed.
And maybe if i'd had more hunting experience, i would have known that the grouse could keep flying for a bit even after being hit.
But i had neither of those, so when that grouse took off in a burst of wings, i thought it was yet another one getting away!
It flew right at my brother and he had to duck to miss getting it in the face!
Now it was coming straight at me, and i thought "i'm not letting this bird get away!!"
He got within a few feet of me and then turned to go towards the woods.
Reports from observers say i didn't even raise my shot gun, but shot from the hip "say hello to my little friend" style.
That bird was about 6' in front of me when i released the 12g!
I could vaguely hear the anguished cry of my brother, one of those slow motion "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO" s, but it was too late and my eye's widened as that bird literally exploded right in front of me, a plume of feathers shooting straight up like the mushroom cloud of an atom bomb.
As i stood there in disbelief, my brother came over, fished through the bushes, and gingerly with two fingers picked up the remains - one claw, a long strangley spinal cord, and about half a beak.
Solemnly he said "we shall never speak of this again"
We've been telling the story ever since.