A long time ago we used to get out riding and scouting for doves. Well, we found the mother-load, but the problem was the land owner wouldnt allow any hunting. Seems his neighbor didnt get along very well with this guy so he did it in spite and allowed us to shoot right across the tar-gravel road in his soybeans. We just had to make sure we were across the ditch and none of the doves shot landed in the guy's fresh cut millet field cause we couldnt get them off his land without getting prosecuted. We tried not to tromp his beans down but that was near impossible hunting down doves in waist high soybeans all day. Middle of the afternoon I had to strip my gun and field clean it so my automatic would work again. The barrel was so hot at times it'd burn ya if it touched flesh. We had guys that picked up over a hundred, but mind ya, those guys were some good shots on doves. I dont know how many our crowd together (10 or 12 of us) killed but I shot 10 boxes of shells myself. I think I picked up over 60 and lost about half that many more in the beans. Heck, I even had a game warden pick one up for me and almost stepped on a limit of birds getting to me. :D Everybody blasted shells all day long from noon till sunset. That was along time ago, before the days of people charging hunters to get in their fields and before it became a federal offense for breaking dove hunting laws. Them neighbors musta hated each other because on that next Monday after Labor Day 4 of us went to the other side of that same small millet field and shot 20+ more doves shooting out of the man's backyard (same man that owned the beans.) That was, by far, the best shoot I'd ever been on other than crow shoots.
The beer drinking came after the doves were cleaned and going into the oven.
Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing.