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I took my "old dog" Daisy out on a Pheasant Hunt yesterday. Though she is only 7 1/2, Daisy is an old dog. A bad thyroid has left her very much overweight and has sucked all the drive out of her. However when we hit the field, she perks up (even if its only for a while).
Daisy's Sire works and lives on a shooting preserve and some of Daisy's early training was done there. Over time she became a wonderful upland dog.
We drove for two and a half hours to hunt one of my favorite places in the world, the Summer Lake Wildlife Area. The place is gorgeous and is a sentimental favorite. Too many reasons to go into.
My partner Fred took a young started dog out and I took Daisy. Daisy put on a lesson. Oregon is not a top pheasant state and really doesnt have many. The ones left are as wild as can be. Daisy learned young that the wild ones live inside the nastiest of cover and that is where she always goes. Finally after a day long of crashing heavy cover I was suprised by a hen blowing up out of the cover. I thought, maybe another will come. Daisy came out of her cover, checked up on me, then dove back in. Moments later an explosion of colors rocketed out from this patch of cattails. My shot was instinctive and quick and the pheasant fell back to the cattails. My problems are now begginning. The patch is so thick that there is no possible way that Daisy saw the mark. I went right in after it. I found the cover to be even thicker than imagined. I got to the area and called Daisy to me. She plowed her way over. Even at my feet, I could only see a glimpse of her. We worked for a while and finally I heard some noise of a newly excited dog. He movements were excited and directed at something. Then I could hear her, and unexplainably could tell that she had the bird. I moved towards her, then parted the mat of cattails to find that she had indeed found the bird. There she stood, barely visible in her cover infested world with a rooster pheasant. When I took the bird, she seemed to have that wonderful smile that only a pleased golden can get. She was proud too.
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Fred is staying at my home to deliver his black lab for me to whelp. Twister is due Saturday. It was a long and exhausting day in the field. Fred and I were enjoying TV in the family room when I heard some commotion from his young dog. I walked out to discipline this dog (who was peeing on the carpet) when we looked over to see two puppies on the hearth carpet! Twister was very quietly whelping her litter four days early. That began a very very long 20 hours. In all we now have 9 new little lab puppies. I can now hear them squeeking in their little whelping box.
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I leave in just about an hour to drive to Albany Oregon to pick Amber up from Sutter Bay Retrievers. She has been bred to Dash. Puppies due Jan 3, 2010! With the black litter, and the gold litter, we will be in puppies for nearly four months straight.
*****
I hope this note finds everyone well. Take care.
Daisy's Sire works and lives on a shooting preserve and some of Daisy's early training was done there. Over time she became a wonderful upland dog.
We drove for two and a half hours to hunt one of my favorite places in the world, the Summer Lake Wildlife Area. The place is gorgeous and is a sentimental favorite. Too many reasons to go into.
My partner Fred took a young started dog out and I took Daisy. Daisy put on a lesson. Oregon is not a top pheasant state and really doesnt have many. The ones left are as wild as can be. Daisy learned young that the wild ones live inside the nastiest of cover and that is where she always goes. Finally after a day long of crashing heavy cover I was suprised by a hen blowing up out of the cover. I thought, maybe another will come. Daisy came out of her cover, checked up on me, then dove back in. Moments later an explosion of colors rocketed out from this patch of cattails. My shot was instinctive and quick and the pheasant fell back to the cattails. My problems are now begginning. The patch is so thick that there is no possible way that Daisy saw the mark. I went right in after it. I found the cover to be even thicker than imagined. I got to the area and called Daisy to me. She plowed her way over. Even at my feet, I could only see a glimpse of her. We worked for a while and finally I heard some noise of a newly excited dog. He movements were excited and directed at something. Then I could hear her, and unexplainably could tell that she had the bird. I moved towards her, then parted the mat of cattails to find that she had indeed found the bird. There she stood, barely visible in her cover infested world with a rooster pheasant. When I took the bird, she seemed to have that wonderful smile that only a pleased golden can get. She was proud too.
*********
Fred is staying at my home to deliver his black lab for me to whelp. Twister is due Saturday. It was a long and exhausting day in the field. Fred and I were enjoying TV in the family room when I heard some commotion from his young dog. I walked out to discipline this dog (who was peeing on the carpet) when we looked over to see two puppies on the hearth carpet! Twister was very quietly whelping her litter four days early. That began a very very long 20 hours. In all we now have 9 new little lab puppies. I can now hear them squeeking in their little whelping box.
********
I leave in just about an hour to drive to Albany Oregon to pick Amber up from Sutter Bay Retrievers. She has been bred to Dash. Puppies due Jan 3, 2010! With the black litter, and the gold litter, we will be in puppies for nearly four months straight.
*****
I hope this note finds everyone well. Take care.
