Kismet
UPH Guru
The Pheasants came home #smile
So far this season, I have seen very few birds, and only shot at one prior to this week.
I currently am dog-sitting a Deutsch Drathaar, a wire-haired pointer, so I took her out to the State Park, where they randomly drop birds sometime during the week.
We must have finally hit a day before all the raptors, foxes, and miscellaneous predators ate 'em up. Birds were pen-raised, which means they have run rather than flown most of their lives.
And run they did--three times Citori went into crouch, creeping up to point, or on point, and the birds just did their version of the road-runner and moved fast through the brush, into the woods, and THEN took off...out of sight.
Finally, she locked up on one, I flushed it, and dropped it for her to find and bring back to me. Felt good...but a still better feeling was that I knew that there were birds on the property...and not just taking a dog for a long walk.
We walked to the far end of the property and as she was tracking some scent, I stumbled upon another bird which flushed to my right and behind me. With the grace of one of the Keystone Cops, I twisted, tracked, and fired. I hit the wing and the damned bird dropped...into the branches of a tree.
We were not amused.
It wiggled and dropped, and I called Citori over to find it...although I could see it clearly (gotta make the dog think it is a mighty hunter.) She found it, and with some pride, brought it over to me. I praised her mightily.
Took two and one-half hours, but we came home with pheasants, and the dog (who lives up in grouse country) got some good work on pheasants, even though they ran rather than holding for a point, and on search and retrieve work.
Pre-dawn the following day, I took Mick out to the property, hoping that the birds were still around, somewhere.
He worked the property like a pro. All the field training, and house work on control commands and fetching pheasant wings paid off. Although I keep an electronic collar on all my dogs (I just don't want some accident to happen because of the dogs' enthusiasm in the chase,) I didn't have to use it once.
We worked the edges of the property, and after about forty-five minutes of working some scent, Mick rounded up from under some trees, snapped his head to the left, and started bounding (Springer spaniel--they bounce) to the edge of the grasses bordering the plowed crop field. Bird went up and I managed to hit it. Mick was on it fast, and brought back...making me wish I'd had the camera ready. He gripped the body and the pheasant's wing completely covered his eyes. I called to give him some idea where I was. A perfect...funny...and absolutely right image to save for Winter memories.
We did the rest of the left side of the property...and should have had a second bird. There is no reason why I didn't drop the second bird he got up...unless (as I suspect) the bird was wearing kevlar. I know, I know...it is unlikely, but by-gawd that bird should have dropped with the first barrel, or most certainly, with the second. It flew away with casual indifference.
But Mick was a joy. Oddly, I'd come to think of him as "all right" for a bird dog, but in this instance, and with the juxtaposition of running a pointer one day and Mick, a flushing breed, the second, Mick just shone!
We finished the second half and came in...about three hours of hunting walk. I was tired, kinda played out, but really quite pleased after the seven or so birdless hunts Mick and I had had prior.
Enjoy every sandwich
So far this season, I have seen very few birds, and only shot at one prior to this week.
I currently am dog-sitting a Deutsch Drathaar, a wire-haired pointer, so I took her out to the State Park, where they randomly drop birds sometime during the week.
We must have finally hit a day before all the raptors, foxes, and miscellaneous predators ate 'em up. Birds were pen-raised, which means they have run rather than flown most of their lives.
And run they did--three times Citori went into crouch, creeping up to point, or on point, and the birds just did their version of the road-runner and moved fast through the brush, into the woods, and THEN took off...out of sight.
Finally, she locked up on one, I flushed it, and dropped it for her to find and bring back to me. Felt good...but a still better feeling was that I knew that there were birds on the property...and not just taking a dog for a long walk.
We walked to the far end of the property and as she was tracking some scent, I stumbled upon another bird which flushed to my right and behind me. With the grace of one of the Keystone Cops, I twisted, tracked, and fired. I hit the wing and the damned bird dropped...into the branches of a tree.
We were not amused.
It wiggled and dropped, and I called Citori over to find it...although I could see it clearly (gotta make the dog think it is a mighty hunter.) She found it, and with some pride, brought it over to me. I praised her mightily.
Took two and one-half hours, but we came home with pheasants, and the dog (who lives up in grouse country) got some good work on pheasants, even though they ran rather than holding for a point, and on search and retrieve work.
Pre-dawn the following day, I took Mick out to the property, hoping that the birds were still around, somewhere.
He worked the property like a pro. All the field training, and house work on control commands and fetching pheasant wings paid off. Although I keep an electronic collar on all my dogs (I just don't want some accident to happen because of the dogs' enthusiasm in the chase,) I didn't have to use it once.
We worked the edges of the property, and after about forty-five minutes of working some scent, Mick rounded up from under some trees, snapped his head to the left, and started bounding (Springer spaniel--they bounce) to the edge of the grasses bordering the plowed crop field. Bird went up and I managed to hit it. Mick was on it fast, and brought back...making me wish I'd had the camera ready. He gripped the body and the pheasant's wing completely covered his eyes. I called to give him some idea where I was. A perfect...funny...and absolutely right image to save for Winter memories.
We did the rest of the left side of the property...and should have had a second bird. There is no reason why I didn't drop the second bird he got up...unless (as I suspect) the bird was wearing kevlar. I know, I know...it is unlikely, but by-gawd that bird should have dropped with the first barrel, or most certainly, with the second. It flew away with casual indifference.
But Mick was a joy. Oddly, I'd come to think of him as "all right" for a bird dog, but in this instance, and with the juxtaposition of running a pointer one day and Mick, a flushing breed, the second, Mick just shone!
We finished the second half and came in...about three hours of hunting walk. I was tired, kinda played out, but really quite pleased after the seven or so birdless hunts Mick and I had had prior.
Enjoy every sandwich
