10/08-09/2005

Family, Dog, Shotguns & Beer


 

Well, we finally got out this weekend and did some bird hunting with Brother David and his dog Chief. Chief is his six year old male Brittany. Years ago I hunted a lot with David's long time hunting buddy "Bert". I forgot how much I enjoyed it.

Walking in the woods on a nice autumn afternoon is nice. Walking in the woods with your rifle/shotgun on a nice autumn afternoon is better. But, walking in the woods on a nice autumn afternoon with your shotgun and a good bird dog can be an incredible heart pounding experience!

Armed with any shotgun, pockets full of shotgun shells and a hunting partner with a nose that can smell a nasty, filthy, old bird at 50 yards, it can get real exciting. Couple that with a couple of Brothers or friends and it can get real fast, furious and noisy in a hurry. It's a wicked disadvantage to the bird that the dog, shotguns and shooters all want the same results; DEAD BIRD.

So, David shows up at my house in Bethlehem at 9:30 A.M. We do the same thing as we've always done. Drink coffee and talk about hunting. Chief is running around my house pointing spiders and flies and really wants to go hunting. David and I are bullshitting. Hey, that's the way we've always done it. Around 1:30 P.M. we panic and head for Whitefield.

So, now we're at Suitor's Garage and ready, right? Did I mention it is raining and has been for a day and a half? Ah, that's no problem, right? John is there and ready. Mom and I decide blueberry muffins and shopping for dinner are pretty important too. I hand John my Browning Citori Upland Special over/under and wish him luck. John, David and Chief head out. I drink some beer, Corey shows up, we drink some more beer, Mom and I go shopping. Life is good (and I figure we have food now and won't starve).


10/08/05

Around 6:00 David, John and Chief rolled into the garage. Our local woodcock cover produced birds with Chief's help. Three birds were killed and retrieved. A few more discovered and dodged the hale of buckshot from the 12 gauges. The common description for that event is "fly you dead son-of-a-bitch, fly."




Before After
 


10/09/05

Late Sunday morning David and I headed for "end of road" while John went to round up Corey. Instead of heading into the apples we decided to walk down the woods road for a bit. This was a real treat. The dog instinctively worked both sides of the road, finding birds along the way. We heard a couple flush, missed a couple but came up with 3 woodcock for Chief's effort.

We loaded up and met John and Corey at another local cover.


We hoped to get Corey into a bunch of birds during his first "bird dog" hunt but the first cover only produced a flush with no shots taken. Moving down some railroad tracks to a second cover Corey got all excited when he spotted a rabbit. That critter doesn't know how close it came to being turned into dog food. Fifty yards down the tracks we heard the beeper collar sounding off and David proclaiming "got a point!" Corey and I were on the tracks fifteen yards apart and John and David were just off the tracks, down the hill in the woods. We located the dog, positioned ourselves for our best shots and David went to the dog to help flush the bird. It was looking grim for this timberdoodle. Chief held his point while David went in and flushed the bird. It went straight up then turned towards the tracks in front of Corey. He shouldered his Stoeger auto, fired once and it was over, "dead bird Chief!"


Corey with his new best friend.