I was never very good... I think I first went hunting with my father and my brothers when I was like 14. My brothers were 16, and 18 at that time, and had already started to get into things that weren't as 'wholesome' as hunting. I remember one of my first and only trips where all four of us went out together hunting 'partridge' ( ruffled grouse ), at some place in northern Michigan. My dad had a decent dog named Sandy, ( wonderful dog actually , kind of a labrador , but I'm not sure it was pure bread, certainly didn't have any papers ). Sandy was more than a hunting dog, she was the best darn family dog a family could ever want. Fiercely protective us us kids, and gentle as could be... Sandy could catch small balloons in her mouth without breaking them, if you tossed them toward her.
We walked around for a hour or two in the brush, me near my father and the dog, me with the .410 I was given. First bird that flew up, seemed to come from 5 feet away from me, scared the bejesus out of me, my dad blasted it with his trusty 12 gauge. Not sure exactly where my brothers were at that time, somewhere not to far away, but the brush so thick you it wasn't really possible to see them easily.
We keep walking, eventually somehow my dad actually saw one in a tree and shot it.
The day went on, neither of us boys had even really got a shot off, my dad pushes on through some of the heaviest brush we had come across ( a lot of dogwood ). My brothers and I didn't even venture into that brush, they took the time to sneak a cigarette while my dad was occupied in the brush. Not long after my dad went in the brush, we hear one, two, three, maybe more shots coming from where my dad and his trusty dog 'Sandy' was. He comes out the other side of the brush with 3 more birds.
Probably my fondest memory of hunting, and I never really even got a shot off that day. I never was great at shooting... but did go on to have at least a dozen more hunting trips out with my dad and at least one of my brothers after that.
My dad had got his gun, from a neighbor named Wayne Teachout. Story I was told, was that Wayne had awards for shooting 500 or maybe even 1000 in a row without missing . Not sure if that was skeet or trap. All I know, is that old Winchester Model 12 that Wayne had left to my father ( after his death ), was the smoothest pump action gun I've ever known. I think my brother who's 2 years older than me has inherited that old model 12 from my Dad when he passed away...
My dad did eventually find me a 16 gauge Model 12. It's not nearly as nice as Wayne's 12 gauge is... but I did eventually get the Model 12 my dad had always promised me he'd get me, back on that first day I went out hunting partridge with him and my brothers. I haven't even taken it out of the case in about 8 years.