Al Hansen
Well-known member
Chili and Me
It seemed like it was just such a short time ago that Chili was that little bundle of joy, wandering around the yard, investigating things, and making my life about as exciting as you can imagine. Each day I looked forward to just because she was such an integral part of it.
I had never trained a dog before in my life, let alone have my very own dog. How is it possible that happened? I’ll never know but I’m glad about one thing and that is that on February 28th, 2003, she was born.
That spring I was looking for a retriever because I had told Bev that if I didn’t get a dog I was going to quit duck hunting. The year before I had lost quite a few ducks and I was not welling to allow that to happen again. So was it a coincidence that one morning when one of my students came bursting into the classroom, almost out of breath, wearing a big smile, and said, “Mr. Hansen, Mr. Hansen, you should see Kendra’s puppies. They are sooooo cute!” Selina was Kendra’s best friend and one of my top students. You know that kind of kid----that just seems to be blessed with enthusiasm, brains, good looks and abilities that only God could have given someone. Well, I have to admit that she had my attention.
Bev and I found ourselves going over to see those puppies two weeks later and I’m glad we did because we were given pick of the litter for females. The sire of this litter was a very good looking light yellow male but huge. He had to go about 110 pounds. The mother was a good looking chocolate female, around 65 pounds, and one who would lick your hand off it you let her. Well, we gazed at the 10 puppies all lined up as they nursed. Half were black and the other half yellow. In blacks there were 4 males and one female and in yellows just the opposite, with 4 females and one male. At 5 weeks we got a call from the owner telling us it was time to come get our pup. That will tell you what we didn’t know about dogs back then. We arrived at their home and looked at them all. “Do they retrieve?” I asked. “Heck, I don’t know about that, Al,” said the owner. “Seems to me a few litters ago, we had one guy who used his dog to get doves. But don’t quote me on that because I’m not sure.” He looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.
It was then that I looked at Bev who was now holding two yellow females. “Which one do you like, honey?” I asked. She then told me that one of them had a bad runny nose so she put her down and kept holding onto the other. “I like this one,” she said. That is how I ended up with Chili. Back then she cost me 7 rolls of quarters, 2 rolls of dimes, 3 (20s) and 2 Abes.
Right off the get go, Chili proved to be a smart girl. That first night that we put her in the kennel she began to cry. I got out of bed, opened the door to her crate, and squeezed her muzzle until it hurt. She never cried again. That was all it took. The “Waterdog” book came in handy up to a point and we began our training in earnest. As she grew, all of those commands she knew and knew well. The last thing I trained her with was memorizing 5 drops and she had no problem with that what so ever.
Since I have always raised pigeons, I decided to put some masking tape on one wing to bind the flight feathers so it couldn’t fly but a few feet. That proved to be a wonderful training tool. It was here that I found out about a “soft mouth” by accident. There was no way I wanted my bird hurt. When I first got Chili, one of the first words I ever told her and wanted her to know was “gentle” and she knew it well, especially when I gave her a treat. Now with that pigeon, I was telling her the same thing and it worked. Chili had one of those ultra soft mouths and I was most pleased as she would go retrieve that pigeon time after time and at the end of the work session I would take the tape off the flight feathers and let it go back into the loft so it could eat, drink, and rest up after that ordeal.
The moment of truth was that fall in September during the early teal season. Chili was 7 ½ months old and there we were together in the blind—well, just a bunch of cattails along the shoreline of a large pond of water that had collected when one of the rains during our monsoon season happened to really pour down and the arroyos ran like rivers. When the season opened I was almost as shocked as Chili, when 12 shots rang out and woke us both up. To the south of me were 3 hunters that I didn’t know about. I looked for Chili and she was no where to be found. I got out of the cattails and then saw her sitting on my 4-wheeler, all ready to go home! “Oh, no,” I thought, “She is gun shy!” I dragged her by the collar and brought her back to the spot where we had set up. It wasn’t but a minute or two when 4 bluewings came by and I took out one of them. It was now the moment of truth and I gave Chili the signal----“Dead bird,” I yelled! She took off, swimming through that mucky water, and got to the bird. I was still yelling words of encouragement and then noticed that she swam around the bird, nosing it but maybe because it didn’t smell like a pigeon, she came back to me without the duck. I was crushed to say the least. There was no way I could get out there to get that bird. So there it floated. I was dejected and darn near wanted to go home when in came a single that landed very close to my decoys. Yup, had no problem swatting it on the water. I knew that I could get to it if Chili pulled the same stunt. Well, off she went and once again after nosing it came back to me leaving the bird out there.
This time I got my walking stick and the two us went out to get that duck. It was while out there that I tossed that teal about 20 feet and said, “Dead bird, Chili!” She took off after it, grabbed it in her mouth and came back to me. “Good girl, honey,” I said. I then tossed it another 10 times at least and she seemed to really be having fun. I let her carry it back to the blind area and then I lined her up on that first bird and off she went like a rocket. There was no circling the dead duck at all. She grabbed it and came back just like she had been trained to do with those pigeons. From that time on, there was never ever another problem with my girl.
We enjoyed hunting together for 11 seasons and because of her full life of retrieving ducks—lots of ducks, it was arthritis, yes, maybe that same kind that has changed the shape of my fingers, that took its toll on her.
I have lived the Good Life down here in New Mexico. With Chili at my side for years, it was like being Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn, constantly on the move, investigating new duck hunting spots, (over 4,000 miles on the four wheeler) hunting up to 82 days a season-----we had fun!
Now my sweetheart is in Heaven. This past Thursday, 3-20-14, I thought I was re-living the movie, Marley and Me, as I gently held my pup’s head in my hands as the vet euthanized her. She is with God now however I’m finding out that those darn tears just don’t want to stop flowing!
Al
Chili ended up helping me teach Pepper, then she taught Habi all that she knows. Now I had Habi help teach Chip.
We were always going some place, making new trails to get to the Rio Grande where there might be a great place to set out some decoys.
My wonderful Bev painted this for me.
A favorite spot for us to be was the beaver pond.
Not much escaped from Chili. She was wise to the ways of ducks.
A Selfie!
I miss you Chili, something terrible. Thank you for entering my life and my heart. You will always be there.
