They're not always as easy as they seem

While coneys of the furry variety don't pose a problem for Blue Zulu, he's left frustrated once again by bolting bunnies of the clay sort

It was a gentlemanly clay shoot between two London livery companies, all just a bit of fun. Which meant, of course, that it was seething with a competitiveness that would have embarrassed a Manchester football derby.

I’d put in decent scores on the two driven birds stands, including the specks thrown off the high tower, smashing 18ex20, thought, “Well, I’m on reasonable form, should end up with a respectable card,” and then turned the corner and came to stand three: the rabbit. All hope disappeared quicker than a double malt down a gillie’s gullet. I hate clay rabbits, especially when they’re slow and close. They’ve buggered up my scores in the past and will continue to do so as they appear as fast-breeding as their natural counterparts.

Course-setters love them when they’re designing layouts for occasional clay shots because rabbits are ‘easy’. The boys and girls may not cope with a 40-yard Mach five midi but a fat, old clay saucer trundling along the ground 20 yards out is a gimme, putting neat rows of kill crosses on a score card splashed with noughts. I’ve watched squads of indifferent shooters clobber the lot. But I’m lucky if I shoot 5ex10.

Lamentable

On this particular shoot, it was even more lamentable — a pathetic three. After I’d missed the first two pairs the instructor was about to open his mouth when I interrupted him: “Yes, I know, I’m about a yard in front.” He watched me miss the next pair and then said: “Just slow down, shoot straight at it and you’ll have them.” It didn’t work. “Try shutting your left eye,” he then suggested. Still no joy. I finally managed to knock some bits off the final three by shooting a yard behind them, which has become my method of last resort with beastly bunnies.