Yes Ma'am.

Sometime in the fall of last year I gently inquired of Meredith whether she would feel comfortable shooting a shotgun at a clay target. It is, after all, an intimidating prospect to the uninitiated.

A look of intense concentration immediately came over her face; "I want to shoot something so its feathers explode," she replied.

Fair enough.

So, after beating my good friend TOMMY STATHAM soundly at sporting clays and demonstrating a great deal of proficiency with her new 20ga shotgun, Meredith took to the quail woods. Gun in hand she patiently received instruction on proper quail hunting etiquette, loaded her midget gun, and advanced on the little pointer that had been arrested mid-bound and frozen in place at the scent of nearby quail.

As Meredith advanced, the bird burst from beneath her feet. In one swift motion she mounted her gun like a pro and tracked the quail's flight. Her tiny shotgun boomed and friends: feathers exploded.

She actually beat the dog to the downed bird and ran it back to us crowing the whole while, "I GOT IT I GOT IT!!" When she got to me she said "I KNOW - LETS GET IT MOUNTED!!"

So, that is how it came to be that shortly after noon on a cold Sunday in February; Mr. Jerry Mosely, Taxidermist Extraordinaire, opened his shop door and received in a very serious Meredith Q., Marketing Guru, dead bird in hand.

Totally unfazed by the proliferation of huge African game adorning Jerry's hallowed walls, Meredith reached into her Gucci purse, proudly lifted out a (very) dead bobwhite quail, and simply said: "Jerry, I want you to stuff this dead bird and put it on my wall."

Yes Ma'am.