Soon the birds are coming in from all directions, and I'm wired, scanning the sky as nervously as a fighter pilot in enemy territory. One of my foam ear plugs won't stay put, so I tear a business card in half, suck on it until it's pulpy, and jam it in my ear. It's the best use I've ever gotten out of that particular piece of paper. In two hours, there are four doves and 31 shells at my feet. Suddenly, the father-to-be bolts wordlessly from his stand at a dead run.