In July 0f 2009, my wife gave me a couple of gifts.  First, her hand in marriage.  Along with that came another gift……a turkey caller.  At the time, I didn’t even know people getting married were supposed to give each other gifts.  Thankfully the ring I gave her was sufficient and she overlooked my ignorance of the “getting married gift.”

When she gave me the caller I didn’t have a clue who made it and I still don’t have a clue about it today.  Because of the nature of the gift, it has never been used it in the woods…….until this morning.  Last weekend I left my turkey bag with my hunting callers  in a friend’s truck.  He told me he was holding my “turkey purse” hostage until I got him a bird, but that is another story.

Last night I decided to hunt this morning so it was either break out the wedding caller or break into my friend’s truck to retrieve the turkey bag.  His truck glass survived Monday’s record setting hail storm so I figured it deserved a pardon.  After I had made up my mind to use the wedding caller, I located another caller made by Buford Harris that I had misplaced years ago.

With callers in hand, this morning started out decent enough.  Every type of song bird in the world sang as the darkness turned to light.  The cloud cover kept the turkeys quiet a little longer than usual.  At 7:15, I heard a gobble.  I made a few yelps with the wedding caller and then a few more with the Harris caller.  No response.  A short while later, another bird sounded off.  The bird I was hunting gobbled and drifted in the direction of the second gobbler.

With him safely away, I repositioned to where he had been gobbling.  A gave him another round of yelps followed by some purrs.  He gobbled about 250 yards out.  A short while later he was 100 yards out.  No reason to call now.  Yet a few more minutes and he gobbled about 50 yards out.  My only problem was that he was in a thick mess of pines with no way for me to see him.  I just scratched in the straw and leaves a bit.  That must have done the trick because he poked his head out looking for a hen directly in front of me at 32 steps.

The old NEF 10 gauge sent a load of Nitro 7s his way.  He didn’t run and he didn’t flap a wing.  It looked like he just tipped over.  I ran over as I always do to pick him up and said a quiet thank you to the Lord for a beautiful morning and a beautiful bird followed by a silent thank you to my wife for the caller.  As I type this she still doesn’t know that I used that caller to kill the bird.  However, I suspect she will read this and know that I am very thankful for all of my gifts from her.


19.8 pounds, 9.5 inch beard and 1 inch spurs.  All in all it was a great way to start the day.

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