The little setter quivered, nostrils flaring. We circled wide and pinched toward the vector described by her pointing nose, a spot just shy of 12 o’clock and a little up the steep hill. Eight Huns rose as one and two shotguns cracked. Bird down on the right and left, high fives all around, and one happy dog panting joyously as her owner picked feathers from her chin. For once, everything went right.

Does it happen often? Maybe for a magazine writer employing “creative license,” but not often enough for this hunter and likely not for you if you’re willing to admit it. Now what?

The off season is a perfect time to dial in your shotgunning skill. If you’re hoping to put a little more heft in your game bag and spring in your step next season, drill on these flow charts to work out some of your tics, flinches, and yips.

Sure, it’ll be a bit of an effort, but you can do most of the work at home, then pop some caps at the range. What else are you going to do this summer, grow zucchini?

This simple approach is the go-to tactic used by most pro instructors I’ve worked with (bless you all) to teach hunters.And, in a scenario including a buddy, trees, hills, panting dogs (and humans), and unpredictable birds, isn’t simpler better? Move-mount-shoot is a mantra that controls your gun handling, body mechanics, and minimizes sloppiness and chance for errors. Here’s how it works.

Be Ready for the Shot

Flow: stop – bird trajectory – set feet

Good shooting starts long before you put your gun to your shoulder—what’s called the “mount” in most methods. Before you move, or mount, stop. Watch the dog: where it’s pointing—or vectoring in if it’s a flusher. Make an educated guess as to where the bird will fly: over a ridge, around a boulder, toward sheltering trees, etc. Approach the pointed dog, or get up to your flusher, orient yourself for a shot in that direction: feet about shoulder-width apart, body weight just about evenly distributed on both feet, and lead foot a few inches ahead of back foot and pointing toward the bird’s anticipated direction. This position facilitates the biggest arc your shoulders can make when you “move.”

Move

Flow: soft focus – ready position – slow down – eyes move first

You move a lot of stuff before you pull the trigger, and getting them in the right order is critical. Once your feet are set, stop looking where you think the bird is sitting, instead, softly focus on the region it will likely fly. Your eyes then have a head start on the bird. Okay, time for your first official gun move—not to your shoulder, but to the “ready position,” safety on, gun butt ahead of your armpit, muzzle slightly above horizontal while you face the bird’s anticipated trajectory. Then, wait for the bird to fly. If you’re going to kick it into the air, move confidently toward it then set both feet down again and resume the ready position.

Nope, don’t get to swinging on that bird as it rises, at least not with your gun. The next “move” is with your eyes. At the flush, go from that soft focus of the entire field of view to a laser-like convergence on the bird, just the bird, nothing but the bird … “shooting like a predator” is how one instructor describes it. Your head, shoulders, unmounted gun, and hips will follow your eyes.

Mount

Flow: see the bird – gun to shoulder – shoot

There’s no reason to rush, physics is in your favor. Shotgun pellets leave the muzzle at 1,300 feet per second. The bird starts at zero feet per second, and at full speed is only going 59 fps. The biggest reason you miss isn’t a bird outrunning your ammo—it’s your eyes-head-gun starting in the wrong place, unable to catch up to the bird.

You’re already soft-focused on the bird’s likely direction, so when the bird flushes, you can take a couple luxurious split-seconds to slowly, deliberately bring your shotgun forward from the ready position, and lean slightly into the butt and the shot. Because you’ve been “moving” for quite a while, your gun moves a few scant inches, not in a wild, sweeping arc like a Caitlin Clark three-pointer. “Gun swing” is a natural consequence of your eyes tracking the target and your hips moving in concert with them. Your entire body is “swinging” so your gun doesn’t have to.

As you mount, click the safety off, and pull the trigger the moment your cheek hits the stock. Your best shot is your earliest shot, before the thought process kicks in, your muzzle wobbles, and your eye naturally pulls off the bird. Your lead (if needed) will be just right on all but the longest shots.

Practice Shooting at Home

Stand in front of a mirror, slow down, and dial in the entire process. I like to complete the move-mount-shoot with a “real” shot, pushing off the safety and pulling the trigger on snap caps. Often, that’s where the bugaboo resides when a hinky ringneck flushes from between your legs. You wouldn’t check your golf swing as you contact the ball, would you? (And what the heck are you doing playing golf, anyway?)

Now, send the dog for a retrieve and reach for your wallet. You’re buying the post-hunt beer.

What’s Your Yip, Tic, or Flinch?

Missing is an art form—take my word for it. Here are a few of the most common reasons birds fly away unshot:

Head lifting off the stock because you want to see it fall (never does), you’re already shooting at a second bird (while missing the first), or because your cap brim is too low, obstructing your sight picture.

“Aiming” instead of pointing. Who has time to vector in on a moving target? And closing one eye inhibits your depth perception.

A rushed gun mount helps you wave your barrel aimlessly (literally) as you chase the bird’s trajectory. It also makes it easy to miss the “pocket” where the gun butt should be.

Cross dominant vision. If your “off” eye is the one sighting down the barrel, you’re gonna miss.

Foot position goofs, from “rifleman position” that inhibits your swing, to one foot off the ground bollixing body mechanics from toes to nose. A good instructor can catch these in minutes, saving you ammo, frustration, and the ignominy of missing in front of hunting buddies and, more importantly, your dog.