An Introduction to Field Trialing

This past Saturday I had the opportunity to attend the North Texas Sporting Spaniel Club’s (NTSSC) field trial. Unfortunately, the trail was for Springer Spaniels, so there were no Cockers in attendance. However, the format for Springer trials is identical to the format for Cocker trials, so it was a very good learning experience for me. I had been wanting to attend a trial for quite some time, but had never had one within a reasonable driving distance. So, needless to say, I was pretty excited when I found out about this trailing taking place so close to home.

I happen to be friends with one of the officer’s of the NTSSC, and as soon as I arrived at the trial grounds he came up to me and asked me if I would be the “bird shagger” for the next round (i.e. the guy with a basket over his shoulder who walks behind the judge waiting for dead birds to be deposited in his basket). Since I had never been to a trial before, and hadn’t even seen anything at this trial yet, I was a little hesitant to say yes, but he was able to persuade me into doing it. My instructions were to “stay in the back pocket of the judge.” I positioned myself behind the judge, intending to not say a word, but he turned and initiated a conversation with me. He was very gracious in explaining some of what was going on, and even asked me quite a few questions about my dogs. I  have to say, the opportunity to shag birds was awesome. I was able talk to the gunners and judges while walking back from the course (not while dogs were actually running); and I was able to watch nearly every dog in the trial from close up, and noticed a lot of different styles of dogs, as well as handling techniques. I am definitely partial to Cockers as I found myself enjoying watching the smaller Springers much more than the larger ones, but I think I learned something from each dog that came through.

Several things stick out in my memory. One of these was the very first dog that I watched run. About 40 yards into his run he flushed a bird and moved about ten feet before sitting. The judge gave the handler a tap on the shoulder and that dog’s day was over. In a sick sort of way, I enjoyed seeing that even dogs that are run in the open division aren’t perfect. I also clearly remember watching the winning dog run in the first round. I had to leave at the end the first round, but I heard from my friend which dog won. I remember thinking that this dog hunted smarter and harder than the other ones, and also was very responsive to the handler. I was happy to hear he had won, as I figured that reflected well on dog discernment! On a side note, I think it would be very difficult to judge one of these trials. There are so many good dogs that come through that it must take a very critical eye to determine which dogs place and which ones don’t.

My purpose for going to the trial was two fold. One was to watch how it was run, and to get a general feeling for the event so that I’ll be more comfortable when I compete with Rocky in the future. Two, I wanted to see what areas I need to work on with Rocky in order to get him to that level. In regards to this second objective, I think the thing that stuck out most to me was the emphasis on the dog’s intensity and intelligence when quartering. I watched dog’s cover their ground very well, with high energy, and even adjust their patterns in relation to the wind direction. In applying it to Rocky, I saw a definite need to continue working on his pattern. He is coming along well in this area, but I need to continue focusing on smoothing out his quartering and making sure he covers all of the ground in front of me. I also noticed that there is not a huge emphasis on retrieving. The dogs are required to retrieve all game shot, but I didn’t see a lot of great marks, and I only saw one retrieve that looked difficult. I think that maybe I am spending a little too much time perfecting Rocky’s retrieving abilities and need to focus more on his hunting abilities.

Overall it was a great experience and I can’t wait to get involved in Cocker trials with Rocky. I didn’t feel for a second that he was outclassed  by any of the dogs that I watched, although they are certainly trained to a higher standard than he is at this point. I feel confident that if I continue to work on smoothing out his pattern and get him steady to flush and shot (this is a big one and I’m working on it), we can at least compete without embarrassing ourselves!

I took Rocky out this evening for some work on his (you guessed it) quartering, and he paused long enough for this picture. What’s a blog post without at least one picture?!

Iowa: Day Two (more pictures!)

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!

Iowa Ringnecks!

Yesterday I spent 14 hours on the road with my seven months pregnant wife, my 16 month old daughter, and both of my Cockers. It was a LONG day, but also very satisfying to put my head on the pillow once I made it to my parent’s! Due to the long day yesterday, I decided to sleep in today and do a late morning hunt. When I woke up, the snow was coming down hard, and there was already about nine or ten inches on the ground already; a combination of previous snow and new snow.  It was always fairly windy, so the conditions were perfect for sneaking up on some ol’ long tails! In the late 90’s this area was loaded with birds. In fact, the year before I went to college, my dad, my brother and I shot over 70 birds out of the field that I decided to hunt today. Unfortunately, due to a variety of factors, there are not many birds left on this side of the state. I was still optimistic about getting a bird by the end of the day in spite of the poor bird population.

Rocky got the nod for the morning hunt. I feel that his long-term potential is higher than Macy’s, so I generally try to give him the greater advantage to get experience. We hunted for about an hour and a half, but only saw one bird. It was a lone rooster that flushed extremely wild, and I lost sight of it’s flight path when it went behind some trees. Rocky and I tried to find where it had landed, but came up empty handed. In spite of the lack of birds, Rocky performed nearly flawlessly on this particular hunt. I gave him two whistles the entire time, he hunted in good range, quartered better than could be expected in the deep snow, and used the wind extremely well. I was very pleased with his performance on the day, regardless of the fruits of our labor. I did my best to get some pics when he wasn’t submerged in the snow:

At one point during the hunt, Rocky went through some water, and as a result the snow really started to ball up on his underside. In case you think Cockers aren’t tough, I dare you to try hunting under the conditions he was enduring!

After Rocky and I struck out on birds, I walked back home (ya, it’s rough…I grew up within walking distance of some awesome pheasant hunting!) and had lunch and socialized with the family. Around 3:30 I headed out for a late afternoon hunt. I went to the same area I’d gone with Rocky because I’d seen some old pheasant tracks when I’d been out in the morning, and I was hoping the creators of those tracks would come back to that area at the end of the day. Macy worked hard and broke through some really deep snow. Her legs aren’t as long as Rocky’s, so she had a little harder time of it, but she still got the job done. At one point she got really birdy and started working a small area very hard. I stopped walking and let her work it out, and a moment later she flushed two hens. I gave her a little more time to work the area, but nothing else came out. We proceeded further into the field, following a small stream that goes through the field. Again Macy got birdy and I stopped to let her work. Because of the deep snow, the grass and weeds have fallen over and created a canopy of sorts underneath. When the birds go underneath those canopies, it takes a lot of work for the dogs to root them out. While Macy was still working the cover, a rooster exploded from the cover. I dropped him on the second shot, and Macy made the retrieve. I’m not sure what happened with the first shot, but it’s still a bird in the bag! It was almost comical to watch Macy retrieve the bird. The snow was particularly deep in that area, so she was doing her best to hold the bird high enough that it wouldn’t drag in the snow. It wasn’t a picture perfect retrieve, but she got it done.

After I had that bird in the bag, I decided to cut my hunt short and work back toward the road. It was only about 3:45 PM at that time, but I have several days of hunting left and kind of want to spread the birds out a little bit. I decided to hit a small patch of willows on my way out, and headed across a relatively open piece of field to get there. There happened to be one tree in that open piece of field, and you guessed it, Macy flushed a rooster right at the base of the tree. Borrowing a trick from it’s upland buddy, the quail, the rooster flew directly away from me with the tree in-between us. I took a few side-steps to the right to get the tree out of the way and threw a couple of long shots after the bird, but he didn’t even flinch at the shots. I watched the general area that he landed and headed that direction. He flushed wild as I approached, but landed in the field I was hunting. This time I saw the exact spot that he landed, and he could only escape me for so long! Macy made the retrieve again on this bird, and we headed home. I checked my watch and it was 4:12 PM. Not a bad start to my vacation!

On a side note, I experimented with rubbing vegetable oil on Macy’s feet and stomach for this hunt. I’m hearing from my UK friends that this helps stop the snow from balling up on the dogs. The verdict is still out, but I think that it helped a lot with Macy. I’ll try it again tomorrow with Rocky and make a final decision.

To Kansas with Cockers Part 2

After the miserable night in the tent, it felt good to be on my feet, put my boots and coat on, and load up to head out to the fields. I brought both Macy and Rocky on this trip, anticipating swapping them in and out at each field. The first field was a large piece of CRP, and I decided Macy would get first honors since she does have seniority. As we walked away from the truck, I could hear Rocky howling in protest. By the second day of hunting I think he had finally figured out the route and quite complaining when left in the truck, but he was sure unhappy about it that first time!

Macy was pretty excited in that first field, but I managed to channel her energy into a pretty effective quartering pattern across the field. In that field she managed to flush two roosters. One was promptly double shot by me and another hunter, and the retrieve was subsequently stolen from Macy by a Drathaar. The second rooster I managed to completely miss, even though it should have been a “gimme” shot. In my defense, my joints were still so cold I felt like I was having difficulty moving my shotgun with any sort of fluidness. Unfortunately, that was probably the most successful field that I hunted the enter trip.

Taking a shortcut across a cut Wheat field:

Later on in the morning I was hunting with Rocky and a rooster flushed to my right. Rocky was on the bird immediately, but again had it stolen from him by a Drathaar, this time a different one. While we managed to make it work hunting my flushers with a bunch of pointers, I can’t say that it was as enjoyable as it could have been. While my dogs are quick, it’s about impossible for them to beat a long legged pointing dog to a retrieve. In addition, many times I had pointing dogs ranging out in front of me at about 50 yards. This made it more difficult for me to keep my dogs in the range I wanted them, and also meant that the ground in front of me had already been covered.

In order to compensate for the pointing dogs, generally I would try to make sure that I was on one of the “wings” anytime we covered a field, that way I could swing wide and kind of separate my Cockers from the other dogs. This made it much easier to handle my dogs, but also made us less successful, I think. In one field, while working the “wing” Rocky got really birdy and wanted to head further out from the other guys. I decided to follow him and forget about everyone else. He continued quartering back and forth feverishly, and at the end of the field he burrowed into a clump of brush and flushed a rooster. I hit the rooster and it seemed to drop hard. Rocky was at the sight of the fall immediately, but instead of picking up a dead rooster, he began to quarter back and forth. When I went to investigate, I found a bunch of feathers where the bird had hit, but he was gone. Rocky kept hunting, making wider circles, but he was never able to locate that bird. I’m chalking it up to inexperience as Macy or any other more experienced dog would have immediately started trailing that rooster. Instead, Rocky got confused by all of the scent but no bird and started randomly hunting for it. More time in the field should resolve that problem.

On Saturday of the trip (day three), we hunted a cut Milo field that had quite a few birds in it. I made a long crossing shot on a rooster and winged it. I could see it running down one of the rows, so I got Rocky in the generally vicinity. When he hit the trail, he did a sharp 90 degree turn and was on the rooster within seconds. After that retrieve he was a different dog. I think his energy level at least doubled, and I had a terrible time keeping him in range. I kept him quartering hard, but even then he was covering ground so fast he had a tendency to get out  too far. Obviously I need to get him on more birds as that rooster brought out some of his immaturity.

Headed back to the truck after a long day, but guns still ready just in case!

I shot somewhere around six roosters and a couple of quail on the hunt. I was hoping to maybe shoot a few more, but at least there were enough to keep it interesting. I also have to blame myself for the number not being a little higher…I missed a few shots that I definitely should have made! I suppose that comes from not getting out in the field as much this year with a gun. The birds in the walk in land (WIHA) were very wary, and it was difficult to in them down so they’d flush. I know many just kept running and never flushed. More hunters might have made the hunting more effective, but it was also enjoyable having a smaller group of guys.

Rocky and Macy performed as well as I could expect. Rocky had tremendous energy throughout the entire trip. He would hunt hard all day long and then still be a cheerful, energetic dog around the campsite in the evening, while all of the other dogs slept soundly. It was definitely a maturing experience for him, and he was slowly starting to learn the game by the end of the trip. He was able to make a few retrieves, and a number of flushes, so the experience was good for him.

Rocky showing off the energy!

Macy hunted hard the entire trip but slept hard as well! She just can’t compete with Rocky for energy. She also took a bit of a beating on the trip. On day one of the trip she got a 1.25” long gash on the inside of one of her ears. I sealed it up with some EMT gel and she was good to go. On day two she got a 1/2” long cut on the side of one of her pads. I spotted it due to the bloody foot. Once again I sealed it up with EMT gel and then I booted that foot. She continued hunting the rest of the trip with that boot on and didn’t seem to be adversely affected by the boot or the cut. She handled very well in the field and was responsive to my commands. Overall I was very pleased with her.

Highs from the trip were probably watching the dogs work, seeing Rocky retrieve his first wild birds, watching Macy do her thing, and hanging out with fellow hunters and dog lovers. Lows from the trip were the absence of flushers and the presence of pointers, freezing in my sleeping bag at night, not seeing as many birds as I’d hoped, and getting aches in my knees from walking too much and sleeping on the cold ground!

A rather pathetic picture after one of the days (can you spot Rocky??):

To Kansas with Cockers

Moving to Texas was a little bit of a “shock” to my hunting system. There are no wild pheasants with 150 miles of where I live (that I know of anyway), and there is not a large enough quail population to hunt with that distance either. So, when I was invited on a pheasant hunt to Kansas with several other men, I jumped at the chance. The men I’d be riding with were the same ones that I went quail hunting with in the panhandle. In order to keep expenses low, we planned on sleeping in tents and bringing all of our food for the entire trip. It sounded like a great time!

When we pulled into the campsite it was 1:45 in the morning and the thermometer read 23 degrees. After unloading the truck and getting the tents set up, it was 3:00 AM when I finally crawled into my sleeping bag. Now, I grew up camping and spending a lot of time outdoors, but I’d never camped in 23 degree weather before, and after doing it, I can’t say that I recommend it to anyone. I had a cheap Wal-Mart sleeping bag and a blanket. No cot, mattress, or pad. If I didn’t have both of my Cockers with me, I doubt that I would be writing this story right now…I’d probably still be in the hospital recovering from hypothermia. Macy and Rocky were both in the tent with me, and after I got in my sleeping bag Macy proceeded to crawl all the way to the bottom of the sleeping bag and curl up on my feet. The sleeping bag was zipped all of the way up, so I was amazed she didn’t panic down there. Of course, I wasn’t complaining either! She ended up doing that same routine every night we were there. While Macy was keeping my feet warm, Rocky was supposed to be keeping my upper body warm. I hugged him against my chest and tried to get him to go to sleep like that, but he was too excited about all of the events of the day. He kept wiggling away and checking out things in the tent before coming back to me. At one point in the night I think we might have slept for a half hour, but that might be an exaggeration. When 5:00 AM rolled around, I was too cold to sleep (or attempt to sleep) any more so I got up and got ready for a day of hunting Kansas Pheasants!

Rocky and Macy hoping the “camp cook” will share some breakfast with them:

This story is going to come in several installments, so check back tomorrow for more of the story!

Rocky’s Duck

This story does not include any pictures from the hunt, but here’s one of Rocky anyway, just to keep it interesting:

On to the story…When I bought my Cockers, I was anticipating using them for upland birds. I had never hunted ducks in my life, and didn’t have a strong desire to hunt them. However, after I moved to Texas it became clear that I would need to expand my hunting interests if I was going to keep my Cockers busy. So, I have started to dabble (no pun intended) in duck hunting.
My very first morning that I went duck hunting I went to a public lake not far from my house. I took Rocky with me and left Macy at home, figuring that Rocky would do a better job of sitting still. Even though he’s the pup, he is a more patient dog than Macy, generally speaking. At first light a few ducks flew by, but they were just out of range and not interested in my calling. For the next two and a half hours, we (we being Rocky and myself) didn’t hear or see any more ducks. Then, suddenly, there was a series of shots that came from a small slough that was behind me. Bang! bang! bang! …pause… bang! bang!…longer pause….bang! bang! bang!
Rocky was pretty excited about all of the shooting, but I made him sit quietly. A moment later I could hear the hunter walking in the brush about 60 yards behind us. I hollered out to him that I was going to walk up his way, and then approached him. Apparently a lone drake Mallard had landed in his spread and he had opened up on it. However, he was only able to wing it, and it began swimming across the water headed for the shore further up from me. He continued shooting at the duck as it climbed up the bank, but it was too far out for his shot to have any effect on the duck.
We searched up and down the bank looking for the duck, but couldn’t locate it anywhere. Rocky was staying pretty close to me, but I think that was mostly to do with running intro a stranger in a strange place; it made him a little uneasy. However, as I talked to the hunter more, Rocky became more comfortable and started to hunt around more. After ten minutes of looking around, we decided the duck had successfully eluded us. We were standing on the bank of the lake talking about hunting in generally, when the other hunter exclaimed, “your dog has him!” I looked over to see Rocky about 25 yards away from me coming out of the brush with the Mallard hanging out of his mouth! Apparently Rocky had found the trail and had tracked the duck back into the brush where he had been able to pin the it down and retrieve him back to me (and deliver to hand, by the way).
So, as it stands right now, Rocky has been a much more successful duck hunter than I have. However, his hunting prowess has earned me an invitation to go hunting with this hunter (who clearly knows more about duck hunting than I do), so I’m not going to hold his success against him. Even though I wasn’t able to actually shoot a duck that morning (or on a couple of subsequent mornings), it was totally worth waking up early and trudging out to the lake to see Rocky coming out of the brush with that duck, and I can’t wait to see it happen again!
Unfortunately, I was not able to get a picture of Rocky with his prey. After a brief conversation, the hunter took the duck and headed back to his blind, and Rocky and I headed back to our spot. However, once the second half of the Texas season opens up, we’ll be back at it again, and I’m confident that I’ll have some more photo opportunities with Rocky and ducks…and this time I’ll have a nice camera!

Quail Hunting in the TX Panhandle

When I bought both of my Cockers, I was living in Iowa and wanted dogs for Pheasant hunting. But, my recent move to Texas mandated I broaden my hunting “targets”. When the opportunity to hunt Quail in the Panhandle came up, I jumped at the opportunity. There were a total of four guys and six dogs going on the trip, and we would be staying in an RV pulled by a truck. The six dogs consisted for two Deutsch Draathars, a Viszla, an American Brittany, an English Pointer, and Macy. I had contemplated taking Rocky on this trip, but because I wasn’t sure what to expect and because there wasn’t a lot of extra room, I decided to leave him at home. I would later come to regret that decision, but at the time it seemed like a good idea.
I have to admit that I was a little bit nervous about this trip. If you know much about dogs, you know that the breeds that I listed above are all pointing breeds. Generally, pointing dogs are used for covey birds, and quail are definitely a covey bird. In addition, neither of the other guys on this trip knew much about Cockers. I kind of felt like I had a little bit to prove on this trip…I wasn’t looking to have the world’s greatest Quail dog, but I also didn’t want to get embarrassed!
We pulled into the campsite around 10:00 PM and quickly got things set up. There were Sand Burrs all over the ground around the campsite, and unfortunately, this was very indicative of what we would be hunting in the next day. Macy slept with me in the RV, and the plan was that she would sleep at the bottom end of my mattress. Unfortunately, the sight of the guns, the smell of the hunting vest, the new dogs, and the new scenery had her pretty excited. When the guns come out and she smells my vest, she knows that hunting is somewhere in the near future, and that’s all she can think about until it happens. That night she paced back and forth in the RV; I let her out in the middle of the night to relieve herself, thinking maybe that would settle her down, but it didn’t change anything. Morning finally came, and although I had got some sleep, it was far from a restful sleep due to the pacing dog!
The Quail hunting turned out to be pretty difficult. The first day we found a total of five coveys and one lone single during about ten hours of hunting. Macy flushed one of the coveys and I was able to knock done a bird out of the covey. Unfortunately, there were so many quail flying all over the place that Macy didn’t spot the one that I shot. I was still able to recover the bird, but it was far from a “picture perfect” retrieve. Still, I was pleased that with six dogs and only five covey, Macy was able to account for one of those covey. Near the end of the day I was walking a strip of cover along a dirt path. As I neared the end of the strip, Macy flushed a lone Quail that flew across the path and down a valley. The sun had just begun to set and was casting shadows through that valley. In my defense, the time of day made it a difficult shot; however, I am still kicking myself for letting that one get away. It would have been the perfect ending to the day, but instead I let myself and Macy down. In spite of the low bird numbers, Macy still performed well all day long. She consistently quartered, listened to whistle commands, and was a pleasure to hunt with. I was not using an e-collar on her (I don’t own, nor want one), but there was never a time during the day that I would have zapped her even if she were wearing the collar. That’s how I judge her behavior…how may “would have zapped her” occurrences were there?!

 

The second and last day resulted in a single covey early on. The first rise of the covey resulted in two birds being knocked down, and a third bird that was already injured fluttering along the ground. Macy and I were not in the vicinity of the Quail when they flushed, but Macy was able to find and retrieve one of the downed birds. We then hunted around to try to find the injured bird that the shooters had spotted. At one point Macy became extremely excited in some fallen Mesquite that was covered in brush, but nothing came out and I figured it had simply ran through that area. As more of the dogs started to come in the area, it was clear that the quail was somewhere very close by. The dogs were shoving their noses into the cover and doing their best to find that sneaky quail! After all their work, it was I, the Homo sapien that spotted and captured the bird as it tried to sneak out of the deadfall. I tried to give the dogs a hard time about it, but they didn’t seem to care. After we recovered those birds we were able to hunt down some of the singles that had flown out of the original covey, but Macy and I drew the short end of the stick that morning and all of the flushes were in front of other members of the group. By the time 11:00 AM rolled around, we were ready to pack up camp and head for home.
The terrain in the Panhandle was brutal compared to anything that I had hunted in Iowa. There were Prickly Pear Cacti everywhere, and the Sand Burrs were at times downright awful. I did not have a lot of prep time for this trip, so I had not been able to purchase any boots for Macy. I did pick up a bike tire inner tube that I had cut into sections to use as boots, but they didn’t fit very well and I had been told that they could cause blisters on the tops of the dog’s feet the first time they wore them. So, I was very hesitant to put the “boots” on Macy. Thankfully, she did remarkably well in the harsh terrain. Several times I had to pull thorns and burrs out of her pads, but for the most part she got along alright. After the first day of hunting, Macy was pretty well wiped out. She slept like a log all night long, and was actually missing her usual spark the next morning. The very last hunt of the day I decided to leave her in the truck as I felt that maybe she was starting to slow down a little. As I walked away from the truck, I could hear her howling in protest. I didn’t give in to her complaints, but it was encouraging to know that she thought she was still capable of being in the field! The cover in the Panhandle was actually very well suited to Macy’s size. At no point did I feel that she had any trouble getting through the cover, she was able to get through the scrub Oak and the Mesquite as well or better than any of the other dogs.
All the cacti and burrs took a toll on Macy. It took me nearly two weeks to get all of the thorns pulled out of her, and she had a bloodshot eye that lasted for a few days. It would have been very beneficial for me to have a second dog to swap in and out to keep both dogs fresh. Next time Rocky’s going with! In hindsight, it would also have been beneficial to keep Macy booted for the entire trip. While she was able to get around okay on the rough ground, I think that by the second day her feet were hurting from all of the stabs they had taken. I have since acquired some “real” dog boots that Macy will be wearing on her next trip to the Panhandle!
To sum up the trip, Macy held her own with the pointers, and her master held his own with the shooting. Was the ECS breed the perfect breed for Quail in the Panhandle? Certainly not. But it’s not what they are bred for either. Still, she was useful and did as well as any of the other dogs on this particular trip. In the future, I will not hesitate to take BOTH of my Cockers on a Quail hunt to the Panhandle. Overall the trip was a great learning experience and a excellent opportunity to get to know some fellow hunters and dogs lovers a little better!