It’s funny how hearing about other folks hunts conjures up memories of hunts gone by and many times, just nearly forgotten.

My Dad who will turn 79 in January loves to bird hunt and has done so since he was a small child. Now though, after many injuries and operations etc., etc., he has a tough time walking-not just very far, but goes pretty slow as well. Needless to say, he does not get very many shots during the course of a season.

Well last week, we were near Conrad, Montana doing a Pheasant hunt and had only put up 1 Rooster all day. We were heading back to camp as it was getting late in the afternoon. On the way back, from the highway, I spotted a couple of birds down this side dirt road. I turned around and went down to where I saw the birds to try and get him a shot. When he got out of the truck, all the birds started flying across the road into some private property-no shot.

There was a house nearby so I went up and asked for permission to try and hunt the birds as there must have been 25-30 birds total. We got the permission but Dad was pooped from earlier in the day so he told me to go after the birds and he would wait by the corner of the fence in case a Rooster flew his way. I took my young Brittany, Hunter(who has been doing pretty well) and we were off. Hunter pointed several times and we took 2 more Roosters and then he started hunting towards where Dad was standing. I lost him briefly so I hit the locate button on my DT system. He was directly between Dad and I approximately 200 yards from me and as it ended up being, another 200 yards from Dad. I could tell he was on point again so I motioned to have Dad come towards him. He started coming but didn’t think he could make it(through the heavy cover, ditches etc.) so he motioned for me to get to Hunter. I got into position for the shot but could tell Hunter was pointing hard so I again motioned for Dad to come in. Dad started coming but had to stop several times and rest on the way as his back and hips were killing him. Hunter was still holding his point and I was just hoping that Dad could get to him in time before the bird decided that he had enough, and that the point would end up being a Rooster. Dad finally got to us and was in position for the shot so I moved in to flush the bird. As luck would have it, it was a beautiful Rooster and Dad took it with 1 shot. Hunter retrieved it to me and Dad was one thrilled guy!! All total, we estimated that Hunter held that point for 10-12 minutes which made me one proud PaPa too. Fortunately, it was a young Pheasant that hadn’t learned the skills of using his legs yet.

Jake came to me via New England Brittany Rescue. At 9 months, he had no “social skills” (house broken, stairs, come, walk on lead, etc.) but he “looked” like a hunting dog. I had not hunted in 30 years, but upon seeing Jake that all changed. I had never trained a hunting dog before but I figured I had nothing to loose. I joined NAVHDA and AHDC and went to training clinics all summer. By last hunting season I wasn’t sure what I had. Jake was so fast and so intent on birds, that I could not stop him from trying to catch training birds. His point was questionable, and his whoa was only when no birds were involved. As it was my first hunting season (in 30 years), I was unsure of my abilities also. I violated all the rules (shot birds for which he didn’t hold steady) but was so excited by his ability to find birds that I filled the freezer anyway.

After the season, I re-evaluated my situation and did more training. I sent Jake to a trainer for a month just before the season. Last Saturday was our first day in the field since he came home. What a change! His point is amaizing. The pheasants are so well camoflaged that I doubted him. What a mistate. I have now learned that when he goes on-point, there is a bird and I had better find and flush it.

Jake is 2 1/2 now and I am looking forward to many more hunting seasons.

Rex