July 07 2007

Back in the day, when we still had meetings at the clubhouse and shooting ranges, all the club members were quite fond of a dog named "Lucky" the three legged dog.
Now "Lucky" wasn’t born with three legs. It seems that "Lucky" loved catching a frizzbee more than life itself.
Well, "Lucky" was with his master and some friends of his some years back, who started in shooting clay pigeons. The very first clay pigeon tossed and "Lucky" caught it. His master missed the pigeon and, luckily, only blew off "Lucky’s" front leg. Well he got even more attention with three legs, than he had done with four.
A couple years later, while soaking up beers with the boys, and forgetting that "Lucky" was in the neighborhood, his master started tossing clay pigeons out of the back of a pick-up and blasting them with a 12 gauge. About the third or fourth clay pigeon, "Lucky" leaped up from out of nowhere and nailed it. His master didn’t miss either, this time.
"Lucky: was buried behind the firing line at the skeet range.
His master had his tombstone made in the shape of what he says is either "a frizzbee or a clay pigeon, depending on how you look at it."

Till next week
Helga Biermeister
Secretary