I'll keep on shooting game until I can't. Some old injuries are catching up to me and limiting some of the hunting venues.
My Grandfather was a fanatical wildfowler, he cut canals and dynamited pot holes on a large part of his farm on the Rock River near Ixonia, WI and built a slue to water it all out of the Rock River(I have home movies of the dynamiting). In 1956 he was in his skiff with two dogs duck hunting on the Farm and had a heart attack. One of the dogs stayed in the skiff and the other went to the farm house where his son inlaw, my Uncle Ted, was and went to find him. My Grandfather was 63 when he died in that skiff and I'm sure it came to him as a complete surprise, but he died doing what he loved.