I don't know how old I was before I realized how great my dad is. He took me fishing, woods-tromping, and eventually hunting when I was little. But like most kids, my world was small, and I figured every boy's dad behaved like mine. And, like most boys, there were times I didn't think my dad was all that special. At age 13, I was mad at him all summer after he accepted a job promotion and moved us from Wisconsin to Iowa. But I got over it in the fall, when he took me out for the pheasant opener, and I shot my first rooster.