When my Grandpa died about 10 years ago I ended up with his flask that he carried hunting. Foots came to his funeral....my Grandpa was a Marine in the 2nd Division during WWII in the Pacific. Foots came out of respect to a fellow Marine, and our friendship.

From that day forward we drank blackberry brandy out of that flask on almost every hunt we went on. I would pull it out of my bag and John would say, "ah, the fruit bar is now open." Every time......he never missed.

He asked for that flask one day and the next day showed up with it filled with some kind of apple moonshine. He pulled it out grinning and said, "don't even un-case your gun".

It was a good morning....if you could put brain cells on a duck strap after you killed them we'd have filled a couple.