Earthling,
Your story about the quail reminded me of a time I was hunting pheasant. I had shot one (I thought) and saw him go done about 30-40 yards away. I walked over and found him in some heavy cornstalk brush (still alive). I reached down to grab him and and he exploded out of that brush flapping and cackling. Scared the pooh out of me! I pointed my finger at him, shouted BANG, and said to my buddy, "There flies a dead bird".

I don't know if I had barely winged him or what, but he flew strong and kept on going.

What a day that was! I was kidded about that shot all weekend.

Tango