On Saturday morning, Pritch and I tagged along with my two of my nephews as they took us to their favorite wood duck hole in Greenwood, S.C. It would be Pritch's first duck hunt. Was I nervous for my pup? Heck, yes. It was 26 degrees at 5:30 a.m. I knew the swamp was thick with growth, old stumps, and the occasional barbed wire fence. And trudging through the muck was not unlike walking through peanut butter. But I zipped Pritch up in her vest and off we went on a 15-minute slog.