Post by HighCotton on Jan 24, 2013 20:34:41 GMT -5
It has been a bit tough to get out and guide as much as I would like this season due to a crazy work schedule that includes a lot of travel. But things have been looking better for this month through March.
I was pretty jacked up last weekend as I loaded Duke and Rock in the Safari van for our trek to the bird fields. And they were 10 times more stoked! Dark as it was, the second they caught a whiff of my Uplander boots and Carhart dungarees...bam! They exploded with canine adrenaline!
Many times, I know the group I will be guiding. On this windy morning, I meet a new crew and we make some small talk. We talk of guns, dogs, jobs, families...and then full circle back to the hunt. I do my safety talk and then get the fellas comfortable by letting them mingle with the dogs before we head to the milo. As always, I want them to feel like my dogs are their dogs for the day. And while one guy spends time getting to know Duke, he hands me his Mossberg pump asking me to check it out. There's nothing wrong with it. He is simply proud as could be as it is new to him, but for the few hundred clays he has busted with it. In other words, he hasn't taken a bird with it and he is so excited for the opportunity on this day.
It doesn't take long as the dogs lock up, a little rustle on the ground, and we put a chukar up and it takes into the wind, getting a lift, and swoosh...it hooks 180 degrees and skies like a lil' rocket ship with the wind. Bam, bam, bam! The bird glides merrily away to live another day, or until a hawk has its way. So we laugh amongst us and the guys say, "Ok, this is going to be an interesting day." And the dogs are back at our feet with a look that seems to echo the same thought.
I release the dogs to hunt again with a quick, "All Right!" "Let's go boys - birds in here!"
Not much later and Rock locks up. Duke honors. I can see a rooster in the making! Cackle, Cackle, Cackle! Rooster rising! Some quick leveling of the guns with a few happy trigger fingers. Boom da boom! I shout, "Rooster goin down boys. Dropped the right leg and punched the right wing!" I holler for the dogs to fetch up just as the ringneck makes contact with the grass. Duke takes command as he is more apt to grab the larger birds than Rock.
The Mossberg, or better yet, the owner is as pumped as his gun to take and admire the pheasant from Duke. We take a minute to check the bird out, finding the shot placement, measuring the spurs...and so on.
And then the fellas start to hug and love on the dogs like they owned them. And for today, they do. That is just the way I want it!
Then the camera comes out and it's time to pose a bit.
Ahh! That First Pheasant is so Sweet!
I was pretty jacked up last weekend as I loaded Duke and Rock in the Safari van for our trek to the bird fields. And they were 10 times more stoked! Dark as it was, the second they caught a whiff of my Uplander boots and Carhart dungarees...bam! They exploded with canine adrenaline!
Many times, I know the group I will be guiding. On this windy morning, I meet a new crew and we make some small talk. We talk of guns, dogs, jobs, families...and then full circle back to the hunt. I do my safety talk and then get the fellas comfortable by letting them mingle with the dogs before we head to the milo. As always, I want them to feel like my dogs are their dogs for the day. And while one guy spends time getting to know Duke, he hands me his Mossberg pump asking me to check it out. There's nothing wrong with it. He is simply proud as could be as it is new to him, but for the few hundred clays he has busted with it. In other words, he hasn't taken a bird with it and he is so excited for the opportunity on this day.
It doesn't take long as the dogs lock up, a little rustle on the ground, and we put a chukar up and it takes into the wind, getting a lift, and swoosh...it hooks 180 degrees and skies like a lil' rocket ship with the wind. Bam, bam, bam! The bird glides merrily away to live another day, or until a hawk has its way. So we laugh amongst us and the guys say, "Ok, this is going to be an interesting day." And the dogs are back at our feet with a look that seems to echo the same thought.
I release the dogs to hunt again with a quick, "All Right!" "Let's go boys - birds in here!"
Not much later and Rock locks up. Duke honors. I can see a rooster in the making! Cackle, Cackle, Cackle! Rooster rising! Some quick leveling of the guns with a few happy trigger fingers. Boom da boom! I shout, "Rooster goin down boys. Dropped the right leg and punched the right wing!" I holler for the dogs to fetch up just as the ringneck makes contact with the grass. Duke takes command as he is more apt to grab the larger birds than Rock.
The Mossberg, or better yet, the owner is as pumped as his gun to take and admire the pheasant from Duke. We take a minute to check the bird out, finding the shot placement, measuring the spurs...and so on.
And then the fellas start to hug and love on the dogs like they owned them. And for today, they do. That is just the way I want it!
Then the camera comes out and it's time to pose a bit.
Ahh! That First Pheasant is so Sweet!
