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January 6, 2008—The Last Hurrah
Hunters: All three dogs and Chrissy
behind the camera.
Weather: Nearly perfect. In the
50s, light wind and high cloud cover early turning sunny late.
Since the posting of “The
Wheelchair Hunt,” I have said that anything more for this
season would be icing on the cake. It has been a good year with
many opportunities to be in the field. I was fortunate to spend
most of November chasing the dogs out West and added a pheasant
to the birds Emma retrieved from the wheelchair. December was a
month with intense cold and A LOT of snow, which severely
limited our hunting opportunities. The few times I was able to
get out resulted in cut feet for the dogs and jumpy pheasants
for me.
The South Dakota upland season
ended on January 6th, and for me, it will be a day I
remember forever. After numerous snow storms and bitter cold a
“heat” wave arrived midweek and the forecast for the weekend was
looking to be spectacular. With a little twisting of the arm I
was able to convince Chrissy to make one last trek with the
girls and me out West. When the clinic closed on Saturday, I
spent the rest of the day readying for the big trip on Sunday.
My initial plan was to leave Emma’s chair at home and just hunt
the setters. Because it was going to be a long day, and because
she would be along anyway, I decided at the last minute to throw
the chair in the pickup “just in case.”
I was awake at 3 a.m. and tossed
and turned until the alarm sounded at 5. Without much sleep I
was exhausted and wondered if such a long trip was going to be
worth suffering the next few days at work. After a stop at the
bakery and coffee shop, we pointed the truck west to see what
the day might bring.
Just 90 miles west of Sioux Falls
we began to run out of snow cover and my spirits lifted even
higher. After topping off the gas tank and crossing the Missouri
River, Emma started whining from the back seat. Thinking she may
have to go, I pulled off at an exit and let her out. Instead of
just going she kept bolting towards the ditch with me very much
still attached to the sling. I was just about to get upset with
her when up from the ditch flushed a big rooster. She ensured
there were no others and proceeded to finish her business.
I did not have high expectations of
getting a lot of bird contacts on this trip, but rather just one
last chance to be out with the dogs. On the last day of our trip
in November, Dad and I encountered some very jumpy birds and all
the reports I had received since then were very similar. My one
goal for the trip was to get some good photos of the setters in
action and to end the day running them as a brace, which I had
not done up to this point.
First up was Maggie. With more than
a month layoff from the prairies, I expected some rust from the
seasoned veteran, but I guess I should have known better. She
worked the cover like a pro and when she snapped into her first
point, I was greatly disappointed when the wily pair flushed 75
yards beyond the little dog. As we neared the end of the swing
she once again went on point. This time the chicken held tight
and allowed me to walk in, unfortunately it managed to flush in
such a way that it kept Maggie in my line of fire until the very
edge of gun range. My one shot was more of a salute than a
legitimate shot. Unfortunately at my report two separate groups
flushed from what would have been our intended path. We headed
back to the truck having seen more birds than I thought we would
for the entire trip.
Next up was Belle. This dog always
puts a smile on my face the minute she hits the ground. Her
enthusiasm and pure athleticism is a joy to watch and something
I could never tire of. About a mile into the run she did a
series of relocating points, and I knew she was on birds. When
she finally locked up, I walked in, and a group of more than 20
birds flushed at the end of gun range. Walking in a little
further produced a tighter sitting pair. This was turning out to
be too good of a day.
A little sidenote to the story, I
think late season prairie bird hunting is a run and gun
proposition. The birds will hold for the dogs, but not forever,
hence the run. If you are going to get opportunities you have to
get to the dogs. Well, after the above point and run scenario my
somewhat flustered wife caught up carrying a lot of camera
equipment and wearing uncomfortable, oversized boots (my fault).
I received a short lecture on the purpose of the trip
(photography) and it was kindly suggested I may want to slow
down if I wanted any pictures of the dogs on point.
Shortly after this “discussion”
Belle went on point on a ridge. I stayed behind hoping Chrissy
would get a photo opportunity, which she did. As I finally
headed towards the point two, tight-sitting sharpies erupted
from in front of Belle with me outside of range…another blown
opportunity. Belle continued to work like a champ and it was
getting to be lunch time when we arrived at the truck.
I suggested we move the truck and
hunt Emma at an easy spot to stretch her legs before having a
midday meal. Having been left in the truck while the other dogs
worked I was also worried she’d destroy the truck if not allowed
to hunt soon. The Chessie was in seventh heaven as we got her in
her cart and prepared to hit the field. She could barely contain
herself as I locked up the truck, and as we headed into the
field she was nearly bursting at the seams with excitement.
This particular field had numerous
mounds in it, making for difficult walking for us and a
balancing challenge for Emma. After only about 200 yards into
the field a group of more than 30 grouse lifted about 100 yards
off to our left. Emma saw the flush and was off in hot pursuit,
hoping for a straggler or two I sprinted after the wheelchair
dog. I was in complete astonishment when a tight sitting pair
jumped, I managed to pull down a bird but could tell it was
lightly hit and running (yes they do run) and so followed Emma
to ensure we got the retrieve.
In true Emma fashion she managed to
barrel roll the chair twice while making the retrieve. While not
the largest bird I have ever taken it was likely the best
feathered bird I have ever had and will be going on the wall to
commemorate such a memorable season. After the bird was
collected and the now squeaky chair evaluated and reassembled we
decided to break for lunch.
After a late lunch I wanted to hunt
at least one more spot and run Maggie and Belle together. In
addition to the camera, I armed Chrissy with a whistle, as I was
concerned that the outing may turn into a fiasco, depending on
how the dogs responded to working together. The
ultra-competitive Maggie did what I expected with long casts and
stayed way out in front of her more timid housemate. Belle
stayed much closer than normal and seemed to be in awe of
Maggie, initially paying more attention to her than working the
cover. Eventually they settled into a nice pattern of Maggie
casting out big and Belle being more thorough close. As we
neared the end of a draw Maggie went on point and Belle
immediately honored. I walked in on the point only to have the
chicken flush and fly with the dogs between me and the bird at a
downhill angle. This made two tight sitting birds that were able
to use the dogs as shields. I would have loved to capitalize on
the teamwork but was tickled nonetheless.
Not wanting to quit, we hunted
Belle at one more spot and only produced a jackrabbit. With a
heavy heart, realizing the season was done, we pointed the truck
back East with the western sunset filling the rearview mirrors.
There have been numerous times
during this year that I have built up these situations with
Emma, and there have been two times when we have made
arrangements to say good-bye. This dog continues to amaze us,
and Chrissy and I are no longer planning but rather going back
to living with her day-to-day. There might be a snow goose hunt
in our future or the possibility is she won’t be with us in a
week. All I know is that I’m beyond thankful for the season I
have had with all the dogs, and especially for the gift of time
I have been given with Emma. She accomplished the upland
trifecta (sharpie, rooster and chicken) legitimately from a
wheelchair. Some dogs and hunters go lifetimes without seeing
these three birds. I’ve said in many times in these blog
write-ups, I am a very, very lucky guy! |
