Todd Duncan Tennyson
Well-known member
Decided to get the red dog out for a day of diver hunting,
I slept in too late.
Last night I told Anya to put her knee into my back if I didn’t wake up to the alarm.
I have to hand it to Anya,
she keeps her word.
I felt her knee in my back,
then it was in my hip.
Up into my spleen,
across my sternum.
Into my liver,
and then an elbow to throat.
So i got up before I really took a beating,
and rolled out of bed.
Kaden decided to get in the truck with me.
He waited until I pulled out of the driveway and had the boat draining as it pointed up the hill,
he fetched his coat and got up in the truck.
We were on our way.
We stopped in the milltown to gas up the bomber.
I grabbed a bite to eat.
it was not fit for me, so I choked down what I could,
red dog disposed of the rest.
We made our way to the launch.
It was misting and foggy and thick out on the river.
There were rigs all over in the lot,
saw my friend earl and said “hello.”
He was friendly and wanted to meet the red dog,
so I turned the boy loose.
“You do any good,” I asked?
“Yeah, not a bad day at all,” he said.
He was just leaving the launch as I rolled in.
He gave the red dog a good looking over,
said that he was glad I’d a dog and a boat that was back in action.
I met his buddies and shook hands.
“Well, you take care of that boat and stop trying to find your way by the the skeg tapping out braille, and get that red dog a nose full of divers.” Earl shouted, and his buddies waved as I motored out of the cove
We were pretty fogged in,
I decided to go slow and take the flood tide route.
Kaden had his coat on, and looked official,
standing on the bow of the bomber.
His tail held high and his chest pushed out to meet anything that might cross our path.
I said, “relax buddy, you will do fine,
we will get a few birds and give it a go.”
He looked back at me,
“what do you mean relax?”
We made our way through the inlets and outlets and along the sanded shoals,
we had no land to stand on in the flood tide.
I had to figure out a way to deploy all of the long lines
and anchors,
with a red dog in “hyper-drive.”
In the space of a boat,
alone.
It would have been good to have had Mike here,
I should give him more credit than I do.
He runs the lines and anchors and I run the boat.
The red dog was trying to find his space,
in a boat going with lines fore and aft.
Directions changing,
and anchors dragging.
I got a rope burn from the lines,
& started to get frustrated.
I had to step back.
This was not the tried and true bird dog I had hunted this place for so many good years.
This was a green dog in a new spot,
it was totally foreign to him.
We got out the decoys and I calmed down enough to remember that we are here to have a good time.
I decided to walk the boat 150 yards away, and sit on the shore on my box.
Kaden was in and out of the lines,
swimming,
shivering,
running up and down the beach.
Finally i called him close and he sat with his eyes fixed on mine.
“Buddy, we are in for a lot of good times and bad times and all of the stuff in between,” I said.
He licked my face,
sat down,
and then laid down facing the spread.
Soon we had birds working in and over and under,
across every avenue.
I let loose and the red dog erupted alive and like a torpedo into the river.
He wasn’t afraid,
he wasn’t lost.
Being a good boy.
He was as legit as it can be,
it made me glad to see it in him,
but i wasn’t surprised.
He settled down after he had a chance to blow out the carbon.
I remembered back a decade or so on the same stretch of river what I used to do differently.
I’d set the hounds loose on the sand and run the lines in the boat on my own.
In the dark, I could call out to them and see their eyes reflect back my light
Alex had blue eyes,
Ginger still has orange.
Soon the red dog was like a statue and locked in on a bird
“steady, I said.”
I let loose and the birds cart wheeled to a stop in the lines
“Kaden, you are a golden dog,” I yelled to the boy.
He snorted and sniffed and blew his muzzle clear.
“You have blood on your face lad,”
I said.
“Is that bad?”
The red boy asked.
“No,”
I answered,
“You are as you should be,
a boisterous ruddy lad,
with the rusty taste of blood in his mouth.”
“Ok, good then, because it was kind of fun and exciting,”
he said
“Go put those birds in the bomber,” I said.
So he did.
He was in the belly of the boat,
and I laughed and called him to me.
He came to me and shook off,
right on my camera,
and in my face,
and on everything.
He shook water from stem to stern,
and it was a soaking experience.
On the way back to the launch, I asked the boy if he had a good time?
His ears were blowing back in the breeze off of the bow .
He stood there,
as all good dogs have since men took their boats to the marshes.
Guess he couldn’t hear me with the engine running and the wind in his face,
but I bet he’d go again…
I slept in too late.
Last night I told Anya to put her knee into my back if I didn’t wake up to the alarm.
I have to hand it to Anya,
she keeps her word.
I felt her knee in my back,
then it was in my hip.
Up into my spleen,
across my sternum.
Into my liver,
and then an elbow to throat.
So i got up before I really took a beating,
and rolled out of bed.
Kaden decided to get in the truck with me.
He waited until I pulled out of the driveway and had the boat draining as it pointed up the hill,
he fetched his coat and got up in the truck.
We were on our way.
We stopped in the milltown to gas up the bomber.
I grabbed a bite to eat.
it was not fit for me, so I choked down what I could,
red dog disposed of the rest.
We made our way to the launch.
It was misting and foggy and thick out on the river.
There were rigs all over in the lot,
saw my friend earl and said “hello.”
He was friendly and wanted to meet the red dog,
so I turned the boy loose.
“You do any good,” I asked?
“Yeah, not a bad day at all,” he said.
He was just leaving the launch as I rolled in.
He gave the red dog a good looking over,
said that he was glad I’d a dog and a boat that was back in action.
I met his buddies and shook hands.
“Well, you take care of that boat and stop trying to find your way by the the skeg tapping out braille, and get that red dog a nose full of divers.” Earl shouted, and his buddies waved as I motored out of the cove
We were pretty fogged in,
I decided to go slow and take the flood tide route.
Kaden had his coat on, and looked official,
standing on the bow of the bomber.
His tail held high and his chest pushed out to meet anything that might cross our path.
I said, “relax buddy, you will do fine,
we will get a few birds and give it a go.”
He looked back at me,
“what do you mean relax?”
We made our way through the inlets and outlets and along the sanded shoals,
we had no land to stand on in the flood tide.
I had to figure out a way to deploy all of the long lines
and anchors,
with a red dog in “hyper-drive.”
In the space of a boat,
alone.
It would have been good to have had Mike here,
I should give him more credit than I do.
He runs the lines and anchors and I run the boat.
The red dog was trying to find his space,
in a boat going with lines fore and aft.
Directions changing,
and anchors dragging.
I got a rope burn from the lines,
& started to get frustrated.
I had to step back.
This was not the tried and true bird dog I had hunted this place for so many good years.
This was a green dog in a new spot,
it was totally foreign to him.
We got out the decoys and I calmed down enough to remember that we are here to have a good time.
I decided to walk the boat 150 yards away, and sit on the shore on my box.
Kaden was in and out of the lines,
swimming,
shivering,
running up and down the beach.
Finally i called him close and he sat with his eyes fixed on mine.
“Buddy, we are in for a lot of good times and bad times and all of the stuff in between,” I said.
He licked my face,
sat down,
and then laid down facing the spread.
Soon we had birds working in and over and under,
across every avenue.
I let loose and the red dog erupted alive and like a torpedo into the river.
He wasn’t afraid,
he wasn’t lost.
Being a good boy.
He was as legit as it can be,
it made me glad to see it in him,
but i wasn’t surprised.
He settled down after he had a chance to blow out the carbon.
I remembered back a decade or so on the same stretch of river what I used to do differently.
I’d set the hounds loose on the sand and run the lines in the boat on my own.
In the dark, I could call out to them and see their eyes reflect back my light
Alex had blue eyes,
Ginger still has orange.
Soon the red dog was like a statue and locked in on a bird
“steady, I said.”
I let loose and the birds cart wheeled to a stop in the lines
“Kaden, you are a golden dog,” I yelled to the boy.
He snorted and sniffed and blew his muzzle clear.
“You have blood on your face lad,”
I said.
“Is that bad?”
The red boy asked.
“No,”
I answered,
“You are as you should be,
a boisterous ruddy lad,
with the rusty taste of blood in his mouth.”
“Ok, good then, because it was kind of fun and exciting,”
he said
“Go put those birds in the bomber,” I said.
So he did.
He was in the belly of the boat,
and I laughed and called him to me.
He came to me and shook off,
right on my camera,
and in my face,
and on everything.
He shook water from stem to stern,
and it was a soaking experience.
On the way back to the launch, I asked the boy if he had a good time?
His ears were blowing back in the breeze off of the bow .
He stood there,
as all good dogs have since men took their boats to the marshes.
Guess he couldn’t hear me with the engine running and the wind in his face,
but I bet he’d go again…
