Beautiful Day as Season Winds Down

Actually it is the garage, but this time of year it doubles as a net hanging loft. Sometimes it's the wood shop, or car repair shop.

During the cold rainy weather before today this is where the dogs spent much of their time. They are curled up by the wood st0ve in the "net loft".

The big miss happened not too far from that brush at the left center of the picture. The bird flew about where you're looking. The eyebrow is out of sight over the hill.

This is brush in the the long apex of "the triangle". That is Idaho hills in the distance.

A great day to get back in the field. I climbed out of the pickup about 11:00 AM, hunting into the wind at the most productive 70 acres of cover I've found yet. I call it "the triangle." I, and people I've been hunting with, have taken at least 15 birds out of here this season. In less than 5 minutes, the dogs' bells had both abruptly stopped. They were right under the edge of a 20 foot high clump of brush that was within a few feet of a partially frozen stream. The deep grass was mashed over with snow and ice. I headed toward them. I could see that Lilly's backend was sticking up just a few feet past the brush, her tail motionless. My approach from this direction would almost guarantee the bird would flush behind the brush away from me, leaving me no shot. I started firmly but softly repeating, "Whoa!, whoa!" while I dashed back around the brush so I could come in from the other direction. Fifteen seconds later I started moving in, still encouraging Lilly to hold firm. When I was 10 feet from her, I spotted Juneau, her back camouflaged in the dry grass 6 feet below me on the creek bank. The day before I had been thinking about how she was starting to break point and rush at birds instead of letting me do the flushing. She was as tense as a compressed mainspring. I read her intentions, and started being as firm as I could be with a voice command. I edged closer. She made a short quick jump at the point of focus. Only a stubborn hen would sit so tight. Out exploded a big rooster!

I was so tense by now that as I swung, looking down the barrel, my motion was ridged and jerky, over correcting each time I adjusted my aim. "Pull the trigger you fool. He's getting away!" Well, he did. The first shot produced some feathers and slight falter in wing beat. The second shot nothing. I watched, hoping beyond hope that it would still fall out in the field it was crossing.

I was amazed, stunned, dejected and so disappointed!

The rush of the dogs crashing along the creek bank toward where we had just come, crossing a bridge, then racing out in the field chasing the bird, snapped me out of my disbelief. Then I took it out on the dogs for not being more controlled. I yelled and shocked at the same time. They yelped and started back to me, surprised and scared by my reaction. To get straight back to me, Lilly plunged down the far bank of the half frozen creek and stepped out on the ice. I frantically yelled at her to go back, but of course, she thought I was ordering her to get to me fast. The ice broke. Into the muddy flooding creek she went. Five strokes she was on my side, but the frozen grass bank was too steep for her to climb out. She was half way out of the water trying to get some traction. I dropped my gun, cautiously eased over the edge, got a hold of her collar and dragged her up the bank. Next came Juneau. No soft-footing the thin ice for her. She leaped in and swam across. I was waiting for her when she got to my side of the creek. Not only was I a bad shot, I was a bad handler, and worse trainer. I had completely fallen apart, becoming a danger to my dogs.

Just because I would like to have dogs that are staunch on wing and shot, doesn't mean it's going to happen without some training. If I had hit the bird, their rush to it would have gone unnoticed.
I would have been telling you about a great retrieve. If I don't want them to release after I shoot, hit or miss, I better train for it.

The dogs settled down quickly and went back to hunting. I was exhausted and depressed. "Maybe I should just load up and go home," I thought to myself. Maybe if we come back later we could have a replay, and I would get it right this time.

Of course we kept going. The dogs had 3 good double points in the next half hour, but no birds. On the fourth point Juneau was solid, but Lilly was unconvinced. She nosed around but didn't stop till I commanded her to. It was in some short brush, and I couldn't see what Juneau was doing. I could just tell she was stopped. As I moved in, Lilly was just watching and then Juneau pounced. She didn't trust my shooting. She acted like she had something trapped, however, nothing moved but her. I dropped my gun and rushed in. The dog's nose was half covered in a clump of dry grass. I reached down to clear the grass for a better view, when out popped the black head of a rooster, very much alive. I grabbed it, rung its neck, and was thinking, "Juneau is better at this than I am."

A couple minutes later a rooster wild-flushed out in front of Juneau. I swung right to left and dropped it. Broadside shots, shoot for the eye.

We hunted on around the triangle. It took 45 minutes to an hour more before we were back at the pickup. I just couldn't forget that first big miss earlier in the day.

Judging by the direction it flew, there was a good chance that it made it to an eyebrow about a half mile up a muddy half-frozen field access road. Wouldn't it be a great story if after an hour and a half of hunting in the opposite direction, we went back, tracked down our bird and got it.

A 15 minute hike got us to the patch of uncultivated side-hill, shaped like a two hundred yard long eyebrow, hence the label. When we first got there, Juneau went on solid point, but it was in short stubble. They must have just left. Twenty minutes of hunting produced nothing. Downhill we went, back to the pickup and home. We did see a few other birds during the hunt, but they were well out of range.

All day it was below freezing, clear with a 10 to 12 mph wind out of the southwest. Tomorrow should be the same.