THE HONOR OF A GROUSE HUNTER

Most grouse hunters are conservationists to the core.  They discover "special places" (coverts) where ruffed grouse live, and they are very careful not to over-hunt those special coverts.  They only take a bird and then leave the spot unsullied for the rest of the season.  Often, they will pass up a shot.  They are very secretive about such finds--for good reason!

I have a friend--let's call him 'Hank'--is a long-time grouse hunter.  He lives north of the 45th parallel, and-- almost daily -- explores with his dogs.  He's also an outstanding woodworker and a great conversationalist. I would dare say that he is a font of knowledge --whether the subject be the beautiful "grain" of a certain piece of wood, fly fishing or grouse hunting.  A fireside chat with Hank can easily be the highlight of an autumn evening.

Young Grouse- photo by J. Jalbert

I have another friend who goes out nearly every day with his dog--both for the exercise and for the dog's exposure to "the bush".  They cover miles.  Let's call this friend 'Stan'.  His ability to recall flushes and locations  is uncanny and unerring.  Stan is retired and often works around the house in summer- when his wife has a project or two.  However, don't look for him  in the fall!  Stan is a die-hard, dyed-in-the-wool, grouse hunter.  Woodcock are safe around Stan.  He has no interest in them.  But grouse?  That's his game!  Stan will start hunting and be on the next mountain in no time.  Going from cover to cover, he hunts for the elusive bird, and he's good at it!

Grouse Tracks

Both of these men are honest, hard working, upright men who value friendship and a good time.  They have stories that run from the logging days of the Brown Corporation, of truck driving across America, to the present.  They are hospitable and fun to be with.

But let someone ask them about the location of their grouse coverts and they will either babble a bit, then give directions to "a good spot" in the next county or state,  ( Oh! You should go there to hunt!)  or give the individual  "good" GPS coordinates--which are probably several miles out into the Atlantic Ocean.)

There is (and rightly so) a reluctance by bona-fide grouse hunters to share their (secret) coverts.  A slip of the lip and within days, the covert has become over-hunted, under-appreciated, and made into something that looks more like a public park.  Beaten trails will lead the way for other hunters and soon what was almost a "sacred" site has been reduced to a public "way-station".  The "pristine" nature of the secret covert is lost forever.  Perhaps that's why some coverts have names that are known only by those "pards" who sparingly hunt them --"hell hole", "campsite", "two grouse mountain", "Maxie's corner", etc.

Also, the possibility of ruining a good friendship lies in the sharing of those "sacred" places! For example, if a friend tells another about a "secret place"--and even if the second person never hunts it-- the possibility of the location being discovered is so high that the first person may think that his friend mis-used his friendship and over-hunted his secret place--a clear violation of his trust!

Displaying Grouse

Grouse are not "stocked" birds--nor can they be.  Grouse require the wild places to continue to survive.  That is why I will  hunt a friend's covert only when he brings me to it.  If he tries to tell me where one of his "favorites" is located,  I tell him that "I don't want to know."  I value his friendship more.

It's every man (or woman) for himself.  Many a grouse hunter will go to the grave before sharing the location where his favorite birds prosper.  Such is the honor of a grouse hunter.

AGAIN COMETH THE SUN

Sitting next to the picture window of our cottage, I feel the late winter sun burning through.  In anticipation, I peek outside looking for grass, but see only snow and mud.  Spring isn’t quite ready to show herself and I feel like I was refused a dance with “lady spring”.   My thoughts wander.

It seems long ago that I left behind the cutting, hauling, splitting, stacking and burning of firewood. These days, when the sun burns brighter, I soak in its rays and dream about the next season.   I can’t seem to keep myself from wondering, “How might the dog and I do better?”  “Where will we go to connect with wild birds?”   The weather has ‘softened’ enough that we walk a bit to build up my legs and lungs.   Ever vulnerable at my desk, I offer small fortunes to bird dog magazine publishers while daydreams of ‘perfect’ fall days surround me like a sparkling aura!
 

And the advertisements!!  Decades ago, all that we needed was a good fall day, an old shotgun, a few shells, and a compass.  We’d quickly wrap up our chores and sneak out into the back acreage to where we flushed a covey of pa’tridge last summer.  The high-tech guys usually included a map and perhaps a jack-knife in their pocket. 

Today, we need special boots, a ‘device for this’ and a ‘device for that’.  (Even our dogs use a GPS!)  Our shotguns need to be pieces of art—so we can brag about them in the pub—and we carry enough shells for an all-out fire-fight with a flight of woodcock.  We have first aid kits for our dogs that are larger than the first aid kits for ourselves.  Heaven forbid that our brush pants should be worn at the cuff!   

It seems that today, a well--outfitted bird hunter carries almost as much gear as a Navy SEAL.

Now, if you’re in your prime, weight may not matter to you, and an eight-to-ten mile walk with all the gear is “normal”.  You’re working the percentages--more miles, more possibilities.  Legs kill birds.  I get it.  

However, at my age, many more hunters are looking for “less”.  Less distance walked with a focus on “habitat quality”.  Less “weight”, less “stuff”!  A light shotgun with light loads works well in the grouse woods.  Admittedly, a light GPS is a wise choice to use with the compass.  

No longer do we carry a whole box of shells.  If things are so good that we run out of ammo, then we have the makings of a really great story—which fills our memories and lights our gatherings longer than another bird or two in the bag.  The water bottle is about half the size that it used to be.  Refills are back at the truck.  Instead of a separate dog bottle, we share.  Boots are evaluated with weight as ‘prime criteria’.  We’ve been out enough to know how to judge weather, and we know that one handkerchief and a carefully selected (light-weight) jacket will give us everything needed until we get back to the truck.    Matches and a knife are still important—however lightweight synthetic handles and smaller blades are a “necessity”.  Bowie knives are “out” and lightweight cordura sheaths have become my favorite.  

It’s kind of like listening to some really good ‘blues’… Less is more.

Still, despite the desire to reduce “weight”, (and in the light of “technology”) folks of my sort need to be practical—especially if we’re still “getting off the beaten trail”.  I used to tell my wife, “If I am found face down in the woods, just know I was having a good time.”   She never appreciated that sentiment, so I recently followed the course of some of my “brothers” in our local NAVHDA chapter and purchased a (lightweight) satellite GPS locator unit.  Between April and December, I’m often where there is no phone service, and if I get in trouble, the satellite messenger/emergency locator provides a few good options.  

Mark you, my ‘intention’ is to never press the satellite ‘SOS’ button, but I’ve lived long enough to know that having intentions is like having stomach gas.   The key to happiness is being in control.  

ROUND TWO!

History:  After her first TPLO (tibial plateau leveling osteotomy) procedure in 2014, the orthopedic vet said that the chances were 50-50 that K-Lee might need a future TPLO on the other leg.  Since then, I kept her "in shape" and at a correct weight hoping she'd be able to avoid the trauma.  She had the desired "hour glass" figure.

K-Lee in the "snow fort" she made.

This fall, K-Lee went lame.  After a few hours of hunting, she favored her right leg and limped along.  After a brief rest, she wouldn't put any weight on it.  I had seen similar symptoms in 2014 when she had problems with her left rear leg. (See further information on the June 29, 2014 post about "TPLO".)

I took K-Lee to her "primary" vet.  He did x-rays and felt that her problem was arthritis.  He shared with me the results of his x-rays.  We decided to treat her with rest, "carprofin", and "keep an eye on it".  I tried that for a while, but up to the last bird of the season (see December 22 post), she continued to exhibit the same symptoms.  My instincts were telling me that it wasn't arthritis.   So, I took her to the orthopedic vet in Norway Maine who performed a very extensive examination.

Conclusion: She was now having the same problem in the right rear leg and the ligament was wearing out.  It would probably be a big problem in a few months.  He showed me the (very High Resolution) X-rays and pointed out the problem and how he would repair it. 

He said, "It's really about expectations. If you want to hunt with her, she would require  surgery.  If you want her to be simply a pet, she could probably last a long time without surgery--although she'd become increasingly lame each year."  

We chose the procedure.  (If K-Lee couldn't hunt and run in the woods, she'd be miserable.  She lives for that --even more than I do.)

Round Two:  The operation was performed December first, and K-Lee is healing magnificently.    She is now at the point where she can take take 10 minute walks--three times a day.  In another 3-4 weeks, she'll be taking 20 minute walks, then 40 minute walks.  We will be exercising and getting ready for spring "runs" in April. 


Musings:  There seems to be two schools of thought on this particular problem.  One is that an athletic dog that is spayed 'too young' (less than eighteen months) is prone to developing these ailments because the joint tissue and bone "growth plates" don't develop adequately.  The other is that the problem is genetic and spaying has no identifiable affect--and that the study samples regarding spaying are narrow and assumptive, thus not giving a complete story.

You're gonna WHAT ???........You're kidding!  ...right????

An objective reading of the veterinarian medical reports provides positive and negative findings for either option.   I couldn't tell anyone which "school of thought" is correct....perhaps both!

I do know that if I didn't have "pet" insurance, it may have been much more difficult to make a decision.  Such operations go for about $3,500 or more.  Without pet insurance, the temptation to take a financial "short cut" may have affected our decision-making.  However, with the coverage of our (major medical) insurance policy, we comfortably made what my wife and I felt was the right decision.  What we paid for out-of-pocket was a mere pittance to what we would have paid if we were without insurance.  

The pain of a small monthly premium doesn't seem that bad. 

 

"PRESSURE"

The lead trainer moved deeply into my "personal space"-- much like my US Army drill instructor did so many years ago.  It confused me a little, but I knew and trusted him.  He was clearly pushing me.  He was saying, "You can falsetto can't you?  Let me hear you falsetto.  C'mon, falsetto!  You can do it!  Give me a falsetto!"  It was amazing to me.  I was almost having an out-of-body experience. 

Ah, summer fun!

I was thinking,  "So this is how the dogs feel when they are being trained!"   

It was June 2017 and I was attending a NAVHDA chapter's training session in Maine.  It was a "train the trainer" exercise, focused on helping a handler identify his/her weak (handling) points.   It was very, very good "medicine"! 

The lead trainer was trying to pull me out of my low-energy, "mono-tone-ous" behavior--for K-Lee's sake as well as my own.  He was also trying to get me to exhibit energy that would "help" the dog's and my relationship.

Cognitively, I understood what he was doing.  I probably looked dumbfounded, but internally, I was  marveling at the emotions I felt under his "pressure". 

1. I clearly understood what he wanted.
2. I wasn't afraid of being hurt by him but felt "pressured".
3. I wanted to do it.
4. I wasn't sure if I could do it..

To be on the receiving end of that "pressure" was amazing!  We talked afterwards and I told him that "I'll have to ask my doctor turn up the pacemaker."  We both  chuckled at the thought.

Besides the fact that K-Lee has an emotional side that can go from zero to a hundred in a heartbeat;  physically, I have slowed down considerably.  (The falsetto would have been an equivalent to the squeaky voice that people use when talking to babies, puppies and kittens.)  If I had wound her up, I wouldn't have been able to keep up.  Therein was the dilemma.

I spent the next several weeks thinking through the event--doing mental replays of each station and how I was handling.  I wondered if dogs do that after training sessions.  ...I'll bet they do.

K-Lee contemplating pressure

When K-Lee and I are in the woods and "on our game",  I'm generally satisfied that we work well enough together.  I decided to focus and build on that.

I'm thankful for the "pressure" experience.  It helped me to come to a better understanding of my expectations and goals.  

When I think on it, I realize that training "pressure" is good--not only for dogs, but people too.