If I were fifteen feet away from a bird sitting in a relatively sparse pine in full daylight and the bird is abount an inch or two shorter than a grown rooster, I always believed I'd be able to spot it in a second. Stupe knew it was there, kept her trap shut and was looking at me real funny. I stared at the bird on the branch for five minutes. Put on your watch and look at something for five minutes. Then I got closer and closer until I could see that it's neck was bent at two forty-five degree angles and the tail was skewed way off to it's right side. It looked exactly like an eight inch chunk of branch. I looked at a ruffed grouse ten feet from me for minutes nonstop and I believed that it was not a grouse. By then, Stupe was bailing nervous circles and getting stoned on scent and then the bird gave a flinch. I've never given too much of a care for disintigration so I put one over the tree and we watched where it went.
Stupe takes another one out of the popples.