In order to set the stage for today’s hunt I think it would be best to give a little background information about myself. When I was about seven years old, my family moved from town out to the country to the place where my parents still live. When I was nine years old, my parents let me buy my first shotgun, a H&R singleshot 20ga. I have a brother who is a year older than me and he got his first shotgun at the same time. We started pheasant hunting that fall, and I was able to bag a few birds, although I missed a LOT of birds that year. After that fall, I was hooked for life! In the subsequent years, my brother and I hunted pheasants at least five or six days per week during the season. We were relentless in our pursuit, and we killed a lot of birds. We also learned a lot about how to hunt pheasants in the Midwest. My dad took us hunting a lot those first few years, but we eventually took our toll on him. Every single day, as soon as he pulled in the driveway after work, we would greet him with his gun, his hunting vest, and his dog. After a few years of doing this, he started to get burned out; but my brother and I were still going strong. By the time I was 12 or 13 years old, it was just my brother and I hitting the fields, while Dad stayed home. He still hunted with us some, but the frequency went way down. Unfortunately, he never really recovered and no longer has a strong desire to hunt. He will still make it out occasionally, but it’s more about spending time with his boys than the hunt.
I have a brother who is ten years younger than me and still living at home that likes to hunt, but he recently broke his wrist and has a full cast on that arm. As a result, he can’t hold a shotgun and is out for the season. To top it off, my older brother, who still lives in the area, has to work through Thursday of this week, so he he can’t hunt till Friday. So, that’s the long story of why I am hunting by myself this week. It’s definitely fun to have have human company while I’m hunting, but there’s also something relaxing about it being just me and the dog. I like the quietness of the hunt, the ability to make decisions that are uncontested, and just watching the dog work. Surprisingly, I also seem to have better success hunting by myself rather than by hunting with other people.
Today I had my younger brother drop my off at a waterway about a mile from the house. The waterway ties into the field that I hunted yesterday, so my plan was to walk that waterway and then spend a little time hunting the field. Rocky was my dog of choice for the this hunt. As I feared, it was difficult keeping him in a good working range while hunting the waterway. There wasn’t a lot of cover to slow him down, so he tended to hunt out further than he should have. I felt that I was constantly calling him back in closer. He responded well to the commands, but it was a struggle to consistently keep him in close with the scarce cover. We scared up one hen on that waterway and found a couple of sets of tracks, but both sets of tracks ended with wing marks from a bird taking flight.
I’ve often wondered where the Cocker heritage the black and tan coloration came from, and today I think I might have found out its origination—either a Black and Tan Coonhound or a Bloodhound! When I entered the field, the wind was blowing from slightly behind me and to my left. It wasn’t great wind direction but at least it was better than a tailwind. About 80 yards into the field Rocky was working off to my right and up ahead a bit. He suddenly whipped around with his nose to the air and started heading to my left. I turned and took two steps and a hen exploded from the cover about 15 yards in front of me. Rocky hit the scent cone from the hen at about 25-30 yards from the bird. I was impressed, and hence my surmising that there’s some hound in his heritage! We continued walking through the field, following the same stream that I had followed the previous day, although this time headed in the opposite direction. After a bit Rocky started to get really excited and acted like he smelled something on the other side of the stream. I crossed over it with him, but there was nothing there. We crossed back to the original side, but Rocky still acted like he could smell something. 40 yards further up the stream he started burrowing into clumps of cover with obvious excitement, so I stopped to let him work it out. After about 30 seconds a rooster came cackling out of one of the clumps! I dropped it with the first shots, but it hit the ground running, so I finished it with my second barrel. Rocky was inside of the clump of cover when the rooster came out, so he had no idea where it fell. When he came out of the cover, he immediately started running in the opposite direction of where the bird hard fallen! I called him back and was able to send him in the correct direction where. He quickly found where the bird had originally hit the ground and then took off on it’s trail. It took a little bit of time to get him on the bird, so I made to take out the camera in time to snap some pics. He looked extremely proud bringing that bird back!
I’m not sure where he learned it, but Rocky often retrieves pheasants by gripping them from the back, between the wings. I actually like this hold because it prevents the bird from spurring him and beating him with its wings. You’ll see in the pic what I’m talking about.
After that bird was in the bag, we made the long walk back to the house. This snow is absolutely exhausting! I’m really wishing I had some snowshoes right now! I went out for an evening hunt with Macy, but only flushed one hen. I’m planning on making it out again tomorrow, so we’ll see what happens!
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