Todd Duncan Tennyson
Well-known member
After storming the local pheasant haunts 4 times with just 1 rooster to show for it, I was beginning to feel like it was just not meant to be.
My dogs are old, over a decade each. There were times we had to scale nearly vertical walls for a few Chuckar, and other days we had to swim the river in our skivvies just to make right on a bird dropped across the water.
Things work out over time, and these dogs and I have found our groove at last, it is good, and they know it just as much as I do.
Now, after about 10 years of bagging birds, the dogs get the drift of how things run, and even though I have hunted over them hundreds of times, there always seems to be someone that has never seen a mutt on a bird hunt down where I like to turn em loose.
Met a guy today named “Clay”. He was from the area and had a new shotgun. He decided to get out and give it a go.
I asked, “you got a dog”, he said “nope” .
He looked over my pups and scoffed, “ looks like you are hurting for a real hunting dog too”.
I smiled and said, “Ahh, these dogs do fine, they are real hunters through and through”.
He smirked and said, “Good luck man, you’ll need it, especially with that brown mutt” .
He cast a critical eye towards my girl (Ginger) she watched him and just wagged her tail, she always does that.
I was kind of offended when he said, “she’s going to be lots of help”, and then he kind of laughed and rolled his eyes.
I said, “these dogs have bagged a freightcar load of birds for me over the years, and I’d put them up against any pure bred dog or fleet of purebreds you can find.”
He mentioned, looks like that Brown one is terrier, and the black one, what is he?
I said “probably border collie”
I said, “you’re welcome to tag along with me and spend an hour or so behind these “mutts”, you’ll see, they will kick up birds for you.”
He scoffed again, and said he’d rather hunt on his own. “OK man, good luck, you’ll need it without a bird dog”
His retort was, “so will you!”
Ginger didn’t care, she just wagged along, Alex was already plowing the blackberries.
I wished Clay well and walked away.
As I left, I yelled out, “You sure you don’t want to hunt behind these mutts of mine?”
He just waved and walked away.
I thought it might be fun to meet back at the trucks in a couple hours with a limit of birds. Then he’d show a little respect to the dogs. Then “Clay’d” eat “humble pie”
Alex (my black dog) said, “hell with that guy, I want to get a bird, lets go” .. Ginger just wagged (she always wags) never says much, but always is willing to swish tail a bit, and give a kiss.
So we went, we hunted hard. Alex plowed thickets and fencerows, Ginger backed him up in a maneuver that we’ve never practiced but we have done countless times.
It was good to watch them work, I trailed them and focused on their tails and their heads, when the tails went up and started to swish back and forth, and their heads dropped (nose to the turf) I knew it was time to get ready.
Alex disappeared into the most impossible patch of thorns, both of the dogs were “birdy” when he disappeared into the thick stuff.
He is not a little cocker spaniel, in fact, he has long fur, and it catches the thorns on the blackberries and wild rose, he didn’t care, he crashed in and down and I could see the entire patch of thorny blackberry vines sway and push and shiver as he plowed through.
Ginger waited on the outside of the patch, where the bird would try to exit, I am not certain how she knows this, but she always does.
Alex pushed and pushed, I thought his collar got snagged in the impossible tangle of thorns, and then I saw his black nose and right in front of it, a rooster! It was just emerging from the thicket when Ginger saw it too and she pounced and it took flight.
“Good dogs” I yelled and the rooster was up, a shot, and it was crashing back down into the field. Ginger ran over and nabbed the bird.
I yelled out “Good girl” and she was so proud.
Some folks don’t believe that dogs have the ability to feel pride, but I sure think they do. She was a “golden dog”, and she knew it, and it was good.
Alex smashed through the rest of the brush and dove in to get a nose full, I gave him a “Good boy” and we were off.
As we walked along, I could tell that Alex was upset about doing all of the pushing and brush busting and letting Ginger have all of the fun.
I called him over, and he refused to come.
Ginger and I drank some water and I poured some for Alex and he refused, he kept pushing the brush and kept working the fence lines.
I called, and he ignored us, “Come on Alex, stop being such a grump, you’ll get a bird too” I exclaimed.
Finally, I was able to get him to come over to me. I sat down with him and said “Hey boy, lets rest a minute”.
I told Ginger to go look for a rabbit while I had a talk with Alex, she wagged and started looking for her rabbit.
“Alex” I said, “You will get your bird, just work with me here, I promise I’ll knock it down for you if you can put it up for me.” He focused on me, looked into my eyes, “We need to work together buddy” I said.
The sandhill cranes called and called and geese worked the cut corn off 500 yards or so.
He looked in my eyes for a moment, and my message finally registered.
He kissed my mosquito repellented face, and I rubbed his ears for a moment and poured him some water. He was off and running again, through the endless blackberry thickets.
I followed him, Ginger kept up and we made our way around another field, I could see our friend “Clay” walking towards us, I waived and he walked closer.
I said, “how’d you do down that fenceline” he said, “ahh there’s no birds out there, the guys this morning got em all”. I said, “lets try the fencerow and those berry patches 1 more time with my dogs”. Again he scoffed.
So I bid farewell to “Clay” and Alex proceeded to put a nice Rooster up about 150 yards down the fencerow that "Clay'd" just worked I was able to hammer it with a single shot.
“Good boy Alex” I shouted, He came out of the bramble with his head held high and a nice rooster in his chops.
I took the bird and kneeled down to Alex and let him know he’d done a good job, turned around and Ginger was there, Wagging, smiling a dog smile (just like she always does).
We ambled back to the trucks.
Clay came over and checked out the pair of roosters.
“Jees Clay, I wish you’d have come with us, these old dogs know how to roust a Rooster or two”
He said, “you know, I think that Black dog of yours must be mostly flat coated retriever” I said, "Yeah, I think he may have some of that in him."
I said, “what about Ginger?”
Clay looked her over, gave her a pat and said, “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but she’s some kind of bird dog, that’s for sure”.
I laughed and Ginger just wagged her tail.
Like she always does.
My dogs are old, over a decade each. There were times we had to scale nearly vertical walls for a few Chuckar, and other days we had to swim the river in our skivvies just to make right on a bird dropped across the water.
Things work out over time, and these dogs and I have found our groove at last, it is good, and they know it just as much as I do.
Now, after about 10 years of bagging birds, the dogs get the drift of how things run, and even though I have hunted over them hundreds of times, there always seems to be someone that has never seen a mutt on a bird hunt down where I like to turn em loose.
Met a guy today named “Clay”. He was from the area and had a new shotgun. He decided to get out and give it a go.
I asked, “you got a dog”, he said “nope” .
He looked over my pups and scoffed, “ looks like you are hurting for a real hunting dog too”.
I smiled and said, “Ahh, these dogs do fine, they are real hunters through and through”.
He smirked and said, “Good luck man, you’ll need it, especially with that brown mutt” .
He cast a critical eye towards my girl (Ginger) she watched him and just wagged her tail, she always does that.
I was kind of offended when he said, “she’s going to be lots of help”, and then he kind of laughed and rolled his eyes.
I said, “these dogs have bagged a freightcar load of birds for me over the years, and I’d put them up against any pure bred dog or fleet of purebreds you can find.”
He mentioned, looks like that Brown one is terrier, and the black one, what is he?
I said “probably border collie”
I said, “you’re welcome to tag along with me and spend an hour or so behind these “mutts”, you’ll see, they will kick up birds for you.”
He scoffed again, and said he’d rather hunt on his own. “OK man, good luck, you’ll need it without a bird dog”
His retort was, “so will you!”
Ginger didn’t care, she just wagged along, Alex was already plowing the blackberries.
I wished Clay well and walked away.
As I left, I yelled out, “You sure you don’t want to hunt behind these mutts of mine?”
He just waved and walked away.
I thought it might be fun to meet back at the trucks in a couple hours with a limit of birds. Then he’d show a little respect to the dogs. Then “Clay’d” eat “humble pie”
Alex (my black dog) said, “hell with that guy, I want to get a bird, lets go” .. Ginger just wagged (she always wags) never says much, but always is willing to swish tail a bit, and give a kiss.
So we went, we hunted hard. Alex plowed thickets and fencerows, Ginger backed him up in a maneuver that we’ve never practiced but we have done countless times.
It was good to watch them work, I trailed them and focused on their tails and their heads, when the tails went up and started to swish back and forth, and their heads dropped (nose to the turf) I knew it was time to get ready.
Alex disappeared into the most impossible patch of thorns, both of the dogs were “birdy” when he disappeared into the thick stuff.
He is not a little cocker spaniel, in fact, he has long fur, and it catches the thorns on the blackberries and wild rose, he didn’t care, he crashed in and down and I could see the entire patch of thorny blackberry vines sway and push and shiver as he plowed through.
Ginger waited on the outside of the patch, where the bird would try to exit, I am not certain how she knows this, but she always does.
Alex pushed and pushed, I thought his collar got snagged in the impossible tangle of thorns, and then I saw his black nose and right in front of it, a rooster! It was just emerging from the thicket when Ginger saw it too and she pounced and it took flight.
“Good dogs” I yelled and the rooster was up, a shot, and it was crashing back down into the field. Ginger ran over and nabbed the bird.
I yelled out “Good girl” and she was so proud.
Some folks don’t believe that dogs have the ability to feel pride, but I sure think they do. She was a “golden dog”, and she knew it, and it was good.
Alex smashed through the rest of the brush and dove in to get a nose full, I gave him a “Good boy” and we were off.
As we walked along, I could tell that Alex was upset about doing all of the pushing and brush busting and letting Ginger have all of the fun.
I called him over, and he refused to come.
Ginger and I drank some water and I poured some for Alex and he refused, he kept pushing the brush and kept working the fence lines.
I called, and he ignored us, “Come on Alex, stop being such a grump, you’ll get a bird too” I exclaimed.
Finally, I was able to get him to come over to me. I sat down with him and said “Hey boy, lets rest a minute”.
I told Ginger to go look for a rabbit while I had a talk with Alex, she wagged and started looking for her rabbit.
“Alex” I said, “You will get your bird, just work with me here, I promise I’ll knock it down for you if you can put it up for me.” He focused on me, looked into my eyes, “We need to work together buddy” I said.
The sandhill cranes called and called and geese worked the cut corn off 500 yards or so.
He looked in my eyes for a moment, and my message finally registered.
He kissed my mosquito repellented face, and I rubbed his ears for a moment and poured him some water. He was off and running again, through the endless blackberry thickets.
I followed him, Ginger kept up and we made our way around another field, I could see our friend “Clay” walking towards us, I waived and he walked closer.
I said, “how’d you do down that fenceline” he said, “ahh there’s no birds out there, the guys this morning got em all”. I said, “lets try the fencerow and those berry patches 1 more time with my dogs”. Again he scoffed.
So I bid farewell to “Clay” and Alex proceeded to put a nice Rooster up about 150 yards down the fencerow that "Clay'd" just worked I was able to hammer it with a single shot.
“Good boy Alex” I shouted, He came out of the bramble with his head held high and a nice rooster in his chops.
I took the bird and kneeled down to Alex and let him know he’d done a good job, turned around and Ginger was there, Wagging, smiling a dog smile (just like she always does).
We ambled back to the trucks.
Clay came over and checked out the pair of roosters.
“Jees Clay, I wish you’d have come with us, these old dogs know how to roust a Rooster or two”
He said, “you know, I think that Black dog of yours must be mostly flat coated retriever” I said, "Yeah, I think he may have some of that in him."
I said, “what about Ginger?”
Clay looked her over, gave her a pat and said, “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but she’s some kind of bird dog, that’s for sure”.
I laughed and Ginger just wagged her tail.
Like she always does.
