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Mari W. Henry Email Mari As a prior |
Banded I have been banded!
No, it is not an ankle device like Martha Stewart in order to monitor my comings and goings. No, it is not an electrified neck band for the purposes of zapping me if I should cross the fence into someone else’s yard. No, it is not a label for means of identification. No, it is not a band of courage I received for a courageous act. And no, I am not entered into a database to check on my criminal status.
So why would I want to be banded? How does a gurl find herself in this position? And most importantly, is this a good thing?
Well first and foremost in order for a gurl to be banded, she must date a hunter. Not just any hunter but an avid, die-hard hunter; a hunter that never misses opening day. She must have a serious understanding of the disease. Yes, I said disease. Why a disease? Because for Heaven’s sake, hunting is not just something that you do once in awhile for the fun of it; it is a fundamental part of life.
The disease engulfs you, summons you in the wee hours of the morning to drive miles and miles out into the country to sit in the muck, the rain, the cold and LIKE it! No correction, Love it! It drives you to get your limit. Hunting is like breathing air, without it you would suffocate. Some would consider this a sickness, a syndrome or possibly a disorder but then those are people are misinformed, maladjusted and simply clueless---clearly people confused about the true meaning of life.
So, right, right…I am getting to that. Why, how does a gurl get banded?
It all began on that first duck hunt. We had been dating only a few months and it had become very very apparent that weekends are arguably spent in blinds, in a stand or sitting on the edge of a pond waiting for that early morning flutter. It was a life defining moment when I grasped that true meaning of life. The disease was taking hold. This led to the goose hunt, then the teal hunt only to be followed by the hawg hunt. Well, you get the idea. Oh and yes, you can hunt anything; it does not need to be migratory fowl. It is all acceptable and all apart of the disease.
But my friends and family were concerned. This was a departure from my normal behavior. My friends wondered what sickness I had, was I in denial about really being keen on this hunting gig? Surely it was a ploy to land a big hunter-gatherer. Who is this gurl that now has a closet full of camo?
Okay, so back to the dating thing. (Yes, yes I am getting to the banded part. Be patient.)
With my birthday just around the corner, a large black hard gun case lay on the floor in the living room. David asked me to check the case to make sure the chokes were in there. I was less than concerned, as I had no use for the chokes for a couple of weeks. On the third day, David asked… “Baby, have you checked for the chokes yet?” Jeez, okay okay I will check. As I opened the case a shiny new 20 gauge semi-automatic Beretta shotgun lay gleaming up at me.
“Oh David, did you get a new shotgun?” “Nope. Baby that is yours!” “Mine?, What do you mean mine?” I felt this tingle run from fingers to my toes. My very own shotgun, not to mention a Beretta shotgun.! Now there are two very important things that happen to a gurl at moment like this. One, she has her own gun. She can now be a true hunter Second, I knew at that moment that we had just crossed over a rite of passage in our dating life. It was better than a diamond ring. When your hunter boyfriend buys you a gun that is as good as saying you are a keeper.
How would I know this? These are things that a gurl becomes intuitive about after becoming intimately acquainted with the disease.
So what does this have to do with getting banded? Don’t you get it yet? Come on work with me here.
I was hooked. David and I had matching camo, my 20 gauge took up residence in the bedroom propped up against the wall…Why? Cuz…….. I just liked gazing at it. My waders beckoned me from the closet for those early morning outings, and my son was following in my hunting footsteps, well on his way to contracting the disease. Now all we had to do was train the eight pound family Shih Tzu to retrieve and we were set.
Unaware one evening, sitting at the kitchen table, David presents me with a small white leather ring box. Now everyone knows that when a gurl receives a ring box, her heart begins to go pitter patter and she wonders if this is what she thinks it is.
Is this it? Umm, he is not down on one knee, but no matter And then…… “Baby, will you marry me?” I begin to well up, cuz that is what gurlz do. I open the box with anticipation. And there it is, glistening at me….a duck band. A silver band with a beautiful diamond placed between the wording “Avise Bird Band Write Washington DC USA and the numbers 1097-49180”. In the hunting world, these duck bands often carry nicknames, such as jewelry, bling-bling, shiny hardware or leg irons.
It was definitely jewelry, great bling-bling and no way is it a leg iron. And what other gurl has a band with a diamond resting between the numbers 1097-49180?
I had been banded! I mean, engaged! I am officially and forever 1097-49180.
Ummm, does this mean David is going to track my flight path? He will definitely have my life span information for the next 40 years And I sure don’t have a problem if he wants to hang me around his call lanyard.
Roughly 3.1 million leg bands have been reported to date by the US Fish and Wildlife Service but I would bet that I am the first gurl to be banded.
I bet the US Fish and Wildlife Service would be proud.
Godspeed and & Giggle
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