We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
This gives a fairly good idea of what it's like, in Yankeeland. Lots of brush-busting, little shooting. Hunting isn't shopping - it's off-road hiking with dog. The shotgun is mostly a burden. You just hope to have a chance to use it - and not splatter your pal with birdshot. (We have all done that once or twice. It's important to apologize. Most guys don't care much, unless you hit their dog. It's best to let low birds go.)
That kind of reminds me of grouse hunting in the Thunder Bay area in Ontario when I was a younger. The difference is we did not use dogs or shotguns. We hunted with 22s and took them with head shots while they were on the ground. I never owned a shotgun or shot a bird on the wing until I moved to Alberta in 1968.