One afternoon after school, a gaggle of my chums and I were in our usual spots on an early-autumn dove field when a pair of spooky doves (one behind the other) came whistling by where I was hunkered in a fencerow thicket. All eyes were on me as I rose to fire and took a calculated lead on the leading dove. When I fired, however, it was the rearward dove that fell. Clearly, I hadn't led the first dove by nearly enough, so, putting this feedback to use, I lengthened my lead on the remaining bird and it too fell. My "double," as it were, caused considerable comment among my much-impressed companions, but I don't think I've told anyone the whole story until now.