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Years ago when I was a whole lot younger and was still just a kid my dad took me hunting a few years in a row on turkey day just to shoot ducks. First time was kind of a shock. Was expecting to go hunt pheasants at 'the club' but when we got there it was different.

We were stationed between the duck pond and the duck cage. The cage was huge. You could walk into it. Had hundreds of farm-raised mallards. We'd hunted the back-side of the club enough times to where I knew where the cage was but never dreamed of why. Will admit that I was extremely interested in them caged ducks and had been warned to stay away multiple times.

Once in position someone would release the ducks two or three at a time. They were pretty much trained to fly down to the pond. There was a row of tall pines the ducks had to fly over. Tree-topping was pretty easy.
The crew would shoot I don't know how many but my dad and I did 25 each Thanksgiving. He gave ducks as gifts to his business client/golf buddy types.

The first duck I ever shot was a wild hen mallard but I really cut my teeth on them caged ones. I got to shoot a lot of ducks.
Thanks dad.

aunt betty wrote:They were pretty much trained to fly down to the pond.

Thirst is a powerful motivator, but I've been told there are veterans that learn to walk to their water.