NEW YEAR MUSINGS

January will soon be a memory.  To avoid freezing, the boxes of medical supplies, clothing and "dog stuff" were taken out of the pickup; and while other folks were still hunting in warmer climates, K-Lee and I became "house-bound".

I'm not sure what goes through her head when she's sleeping in front of the fireplace.  I see leg movement, hear soft yips, then she goes quiet again.  For my part, several things float through my mind--three concern the future:

(1) I've decided to build a pigeon coop (for homing pigeons).  My thoughts have led me to the building a coop on the inside our barn with openings through the wall to the outside...It would keep the birds sheltered and  not create a new structure in the field.  My alternative is a free-standing structure on stilts.  I saw this years ago in Pennsylvania at a Braque Francais breeder's home.  It looked like a children's "play-house".  
New England winters being what they are, I tend to favor one in the barn.

(2) I've decided to hunt "smarter".  The all-day armed assaults and forced marches through blow-downs, spruce "groves", and ankle-twisting terrain are coming to an end.  I'm getting older.  Last fall, my friend commented that we were "outfitted like Navy Seals" to hunt Ruffed Grouse:  Guns, excess amounts of ammo (in case a grouse shoots back I guess), water, GPS, electronics, spare clothing, first aid kit, compass, whistle, snack, camera... the  list goes on.  Generally speaking, in New England, I feel that there's no reason we couldn't do short three to four hour hunts, rest, then go again and be just as productive--perhaps more so.  Learning to target food plots and cover is paramount.  So, more education is on my agenda.  Perhaps I can sit at the feet of author G. N. Allen who is a long-time grouse hunter. (http://gnallen.blogspot.com)    
I think I'll call and seek an audience.


(3) Finally, for medical and hunting reasons, I need to tune up and get healthier.  Carrying "twenty-less-pounds" around would go a long way to a better hunt.

Ambitious? ...I think "practical"--
maybe even "self-preservative"!
       

So "what's in your wallet?"

NO, I'M JUST A ...(expletive)

 A fellow who came across my blog, wanted to know if I was a professional breeder or perhaps an end-all, pontificator of bird hunting.  I discouraged him by saying, "No, I'm just a ... (expletive)."   Compared to most, I'm a neophyte.  The blog is about the dog and my experiences--perhaps even the same sort that he was experiencing.

As a dog handler, I learned that 'our' biggest training problem is...(you guessed it) me.  There have been plenty of dogs in my life, but this time around, a higher standard is sought...hence my membership in the North American Versatile Hunting Dog Association.  Getting here (NAVHDA) has been an interesting journey.  When I get myself trained, the dog will be ready.

Nature's Bouquet

Years ago, I hunted deer...back before it became such a 'fashionable' and highly technical sport.  Being young and having much to learn--and also not one to sit still for very long--I would "still hunt" to apple trees and other food sources.  Often, a grouse would flush.  

Then, it finally happened...


Mid-morning in a deer season long ago, I took my shotgun, a model 1100 Remington and went into the woods.  The sun was bright, the air was warm and the leaves were dry.  The sweet intoxicating smell of autumn was in the air.  About a half mile from the house, the smells and grandeur of the day overcame me.  I unloaded the shotgun and found a good bed of leaves under an old oak.  Embracing the unpardonable deer hunting sin, I curled up in a comfortable ball and went to sleep.  Never had anyone slept on a more comfortable mattress.

Gone is the morning sun

I felt a chill and woke to discover that the morning's sun had set. With the arrival of an arctic front, temperatures were plummeting. It didn't take too long for me to cover the distance to home. I 'pondered' why I took a five hour nap and realized that I just didn't care.   

Upon my entering the kitchen, my mother said with her slight Quebec accent, "Did you catch a deer?"  ("Aw mom, you 'kill' a deer, you don't 'catch' one.")  "Well, did you see any?"


I answered, "Nope, nothing.  I didn't  see a thing."  (Certainly the truth.)  Convinced that I had 'little' to 'no'  interest in deer hunting, I thought about the possibilities of hunting wild birds with a dog.    That story unfolded over a long time...and is best told 'later'.

Present Partner and Companion

I DIDN'T GET HIS NAME

It's my opinion that --like 'fly fishing'--the sport of 'bird hunting' has its own unique "dimensions".  Here's an example from a few days ago:

K-Lee, my pudelpointer, had been 'cooped up' for a couple days and needed exercise.  So with little more than an hour of daylight remaining, I grabbed my jacket and shotgun (think 'just in case') and headed out to a local farmer's field that is bordered on two sides by streams and backed by a dense swamp.  I'd taken pheasant, snipe, and woodcock from there--though by then, the woodcock and snipe had long since migrated.

We parked next to an SUV, and I saw a hunter moving in and out of the riparian thickets.  I looked for a dog, but it appeared that he was 'flying solo'.  The man was clean-cut with gray hair, dressed in typical bird hunter attire and carrying a well-cared-for side-by-side shotgun.  The way he handled it made me think he knew how to use it.

As I put on my jacket, he came to his vehicle and we exchanged pleasantries.  I thought that he might want to continue to hunt nearby, so I said, "Let me know where you want to go and I'll go in the opposite direction."  He said that he was going down the road to another small field.  I opted to stay, as my main purpose was to exercise K-Lee.  We talked a bit more and he showed me a ruffed grouse that he had just taken from the thickets.  (He had it in a zip-lock bag which made me think he was both a planner and an optimist.)  I have to admit, I was impressed that he could take a grouse from this area.  They are 'few' and extremely spooky because of hunting pressure.   After brief conversation, we each went our way.  

K-Lee really had to run.  She just opened up and covered the field like a low-flying jet.  Once, scent pulled her to a screeching halt.  It must have been a vole or something smelly because after a brief investigation, she was off again.  We "poked" around here and there and she showed interest in a few other things, but nothing came of it. 

We used up our hour and headed back.  Nearing the dirt road, I "heeled" K-Lee to the truck. I had just settled into the front seat when my "new friend" returned and pulled in next to me.  I lowered the passenger car window.  He was quite happy and --after graciously asking me how I did--he shared with me that he bagged another grouse.  I congratulated him and we chatted about how he was going to add the two grouse to his Thanksgiving feast.  He simply radiated with joy as he said, "Two birds down here, ...I haven't done that in years."  He expressed more gratitude for his good fortune, and then uttered good-bye in the form of a confession saying, "I just had to tell someone."  I wished him well as he drove away.  

I drove home, glad it was me that he told.   I experienced once more a dimension of the sport that I hope never to lose.   

Sadly, I didn't get his name.  ...I really need to work on that!

 

THOUGHTS FROM THE 2015 FALL

Upland bird hunting is letting up a bit in New England and now there's time to share a few thoughts that have been rattling in my mind--

Gun Dogs

Generally speaking, a dog is as trained as you are willing to accept.  

Ripsnorter's Fiona  NA1

I've had excellent, mature examples of handling and dog obedience through my participation in a local chapter of NAVHDA. It's my personal opinion that a well-mannered dog--for which you don't have to make excuses--is simply wonderful.   K-Lee and I are still far from our goal, but we're closer thanks to these men and women who lead by example.  I feel great gratitude for them.   Also, I'm much more interested in a dog's point and retrieve than in a dead bird.  Unfortunately, the retrieve is impossible without the latter.  (When I miss my shot, I try to tell folks I'm practicing "catch and release".)


Woodcock
I love these little buggers!  They come off the ground as fast as a grasshopper and zig-zag through the small trees like alien fighter pilots from a sci-fi movie.  They are just so much fun.  I admire my friends that know how to locate and follow them.




Ruffed Grouse
They are truly the 'wildest' bird that I know.  They run, flush and jinx through the alders and 'popples' like cruise missles flying 'nap-of-the-earth'.  How they keep from smacking into the side of a tree I just don't know.  They are so impressive! 



Pheasant
Upper New England pheasant are "put-and-take" birds.  Much like the general trout fishing here ...they're all stocked.  For several reasons--mostly "predation"--they don't last.  There's just not enough cover and food to keep them over.  What little cover that remains in winter becomes a 'target zone' for animal predators.  

Later in the season, the remaining pheasant have learned how to survive.  To me, this makes for a better hunt.  In my mind, one late season bird is worth three early ones.

Wood ducks
Man, how I wanted to jump some woodies with K-Lee this fall! The few times I found wood ducks, I was carrying 'lead', so I hiked back to the truck to restock my vest and hunt with 'steel' to satisfy the law.  Needless to say, the ducks were one step ahead.  The result?  A noisy, duck-less end.  (Working on that!)

Hunting in the fall sun
Whether feeling the cool dew of seemingly primeval  mornings, sweating through radiant afternoons while striding in golden grassy fields, taking breaks in the shade of a glorious maple--aflame with color, or resting in the soft, fragrant  needles under a pine; hunting on such days was akin to a religious experience.  Birds didn't matter.  Dogs and 'being there' did.

Hunting in the rain
"Purgatory"! 

More later....

QUILLED !

North America has a rodent that is called the porcupine.  It grows to be our second largest rodent--second in size only to the beaver.  It lives in the forest and is most active early morning and in the evening.  Like other rodents, it is a herbivore.  It's biggest feature is its "quills" which are specialized hairs that are stiff and have microscopic barbs on them.  It's covered with them, and the tail is the primary "weapon".  When an animal gets too close, the porcupine will flick its tail and implant up to 40 or 50 quills into the flesh of the "nuisance".  In the case of dogs, it's typically driven into the  snout and mouth area--although other areas may be struck, depending on the position of the animals.  

There is a lot of information on the internet about how to remove quills.  Generally speaking, this is not a DIY project!  Quills tend to break off--especially when the dog is agitated and pulling away.  


Further, quills may "migrate" into other areas of the body--even puncturing organs--which may cause serious infection or even death.  Getting the quills out is no laughing matter!

K-Lee's first exposure to "quill pigs" was when she was about six months old.  She came running down the trail with something in her mouth. (I thought she had found something dead and was bringing it to me.)  When she got about thirty feet away, I saw the object in her mouth move. It looked at me as if to say, "Hey buddy, can you help me out here?"  

She was carrying a very-much-alive porcupine.  I reached for the remote and proceed to "trash break" while she was with the critter.  It had a good effect as she didn't want to touch it again....and she didn't touch the next one she found.  
I held a faint hope that a lesson was learned.

Her second experience was from being too close to one.  She picked up a few quills in the foreleg.  I removed them easily with a pair of pliers--amid her pleadings and protestations.  

Again, I hoped that she was learning about this.

The third happened in the Great North Woods.  She got a snoot-ful of quills just at the beginning of a "walk".  Needless to say, the order of business for the day changed from "exercise" to "exorcise"!  

The vet said, 
"This is not going to be a learning experience.  Dogs don't learn from this."


Our last experience was with a young porcupine only three days ago in the same part of the country.  K-Lee had a good afternoon finding wild birds.  She pointed nine and "located" a bunch more that didn't hold.  Just before we arrived back at the truck, she dove over a banking and came back with a dozen or more quills in her snoot.  Upon investigation, I found several more in her mouth cavity.  Expletives were in order, and being the faulted man that I am, I complied.   

Neither one of us had learned from the experiences.

Easy quills were already pulled out by K-Lee

When you're in the "north country", finding a veterinarian that is available is like finding buried treasure.  The vet in our town was out on a house call and wouldn't be available until the next day.  By the time I was able to contact vets in Lancaster (1 hour away), they were closed and would re-open for me at 8am the next morning.  I finally called LAVES (Littleton Area Veterinary Emergency Services which is open when other vets are closed) and drove to Littleton--about 1-1/2 to 1-3/4 hours away.  They quickly took her in and treated her.  (K-Lee had already pulled out some quills herself.)  The remaining quills were removed, she was probed for any remaining quill "tips", and after we paid the bill, K-Lee was groggily riding in the truck back to camp and a few days of rest.

At least she didn't make the mistake these dogs did....

 
 

We who enjoy hunting with our dogs understand that this is a risk we assume.  That thought doesn't make it any easier to bear.  

It makes me wonder though, western hunters train their dogs to avoid snakes. 
Isn't there a way to train our dogs to avoid porcupines?