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Midseason corrections
Next year's quail opener was set before the season ended. This year's was good, check that, it was really good, the best in recent history. There seemed to be birds everywhere we went, all of the dogs worked great, and that combination caused us to set the bar for next year very high. Ours was a reasonable goal, mostly because we had several months in which to prepare. And so we did.
The Great Debate: Pointing or Flushing Dogs for Quail
My wife said I winced when we pulled up to the only game in town. It was an old motel of a vintage that reminded me of the Golden Era of travel by car. Over the years families probably over-nighted here while on their way to any one of a number of the nearby wild quail Valhallas. No visible capital improvements had been done for a long time, at least I couldn't see any renovation. The 30-some-odd rooms looked sad while the adjoining restaurant and tavern was booming.
Its a Dogs Life which isnt so bad
It doesn't come as a surprise to anyone that we bird doggers are different. Most folks remember beginnings and endings. They remember their first day in a new job when they couldn't find the coffee or the bathroom. They remember packing up a box with their belongings on their last day and walking out the door. Everything in between usually just blends in, but not for bird doggers. We remember the beginnings, the middle and all the way up to the end.
Pups first year or so
Your hopes and dreams are wrapped up in that little ball of fur you just brought home. Training started the moment you gathered him up in your arms for the first time, and it never ends. It is a continuum of more and bigger distractions your dog must endure while executing a command, and "finished dog" is always a relative term.
Cadillac Farm by Tom Word
My great friend Joe Prince, farmer and every-day-in-season quail hunter of Stony Creek, Virginia, died from a tractor accident I predicted in 1997. His brother, Dr. John S. Prince of Emporia, died of old age at 97 last month, having practiced as an Internist to age 90. They were alike as two peas in a pod, smart, hard working, opinionated. Both had served in WWII, Joe as an enlisted radar operator aboard troop transports to Europe, John as a Navy officer aboard a cruiser.
You Cant Just Have One
I love the saying 'anything done in moderation shows a lack of interest' because it's true. My gun cabinet, my rod rack, my decoy rack and my kennels are all full. I'm immoderate, just like you.
Joe and Denny and Me -- and Lucky - by Tom Word
In the summer of 1973, when I was thirty-five and a striving Richmond lawyer, I got an amazing gift from a more striving life insurance salesman hoping for referrals from me, an introduction to his brother, Joe Prince, perhaps Virginia's most striving grain farmer, and after his crops of wheat, peanuts, soybeans and corn were up, most striving quail hunter.
Long Distance Runaround - By Craig Koshyk
In a perfect world the pup of your dreams, from the breed of your dreams, would be whelped by an awesome breeder living just down the street. And when the happy day came for you to bring you puppy home, all you'd need to do is walk half a block to get him.
Whatever you do, dont panic if you accidentally shoot the dog
My liver and white pointer Gep stood staunchly on point on a covey of scaled quail on the Colorado prairie. I hadn't seen my 6 month old coverdog-setter Gretchen for almost an hour since I turned her loose on the shortgrass prairie. My last check on the GPS showed her 700-plus yards out to the west. As I approached Gep, a large covey of scalies erupted in a whirr from the cholla as I raised my Parker GH 16 bore to pick an escaping bird. The first bird folded and I swung to pick another bird out of the covey. I pulled the back trigger just as I detected motion from the corner of my right eye...Gretchen appeared out of nowhere and it was too late. I had already fired the second barrel on a late riser just as she arrived on the scene. I was pretty sure she got peppered by the tail end of my pattern.
Whatever you do, dont shoot the dog - By Tom Keer
I've never seen a bird dog get shot, but I hear of at least one instance per year. When the stories roll in I get sick to my stomach. They unfold in pretty much the same way. A group of folks review the pre-hunt safety talk. All have heard it before, all are in agreement. The dogs are cut loose, the hunt is underway, and spirits are high. Jokes fly around, conversation is light, and everyone agrees they are more happy in the field than at work.
The Joy of Cover Dogs - By Tom Keer
Places in snow country are reported to have lots of words to describe the white, powdery flakes gracing their winter countryside. Maybe that's true, but at home in New England we have the same with stone walls. Scratch farmers in our country's earliest years had to clear rocks struck by the point of a moldboard plow. They'd hump the granite, soapstone, flint, and quartz to the field edges and toss 'em in a neighborly fashion. These low-to-the-ground structures were called dumped walls and they served no purpose other than to allow for more successful tilling.
Beware the Twins - By Tom Word
They were twins, and identical, at least every one said they were. Of course white folks would have said identical anyhow, they couldn't have distinguished between them if they were just cousins, let alone twin brothers. They could each ride like the wind, and scout a bird dog, which Ron did for a living, working for the all-age handler, Sparrow Bates.
The Nose Knows: Reading your Birddogs Signs by Tom Keer
If you own a bird dog, let alone a string of 'em, then the odds are high that you know what their every movement and noise means. But if you're hunting over a buddy's dog then you might not be as keyed in to their tells. Here are two common situations that bird dogs encounter and some different ways in which they react.
Whats in a name?
I will call this an information session for all of you gundog enthusiasts out there, however some of you will more than likely call it venting and complaining. But nevertheless, here is my story. This article is about duel registration for your gundog. Specifically duel registration with the AKC and the NAVHDA. I will share my story here today with all of you in hopes that you will not run into the same misfortune that I have recently when trying to accomplish this with my new male GSP. First off, just a little bit of back story to set the mood. I had been in search of the perfect male to add to my bloodline for quite sometime. I mean I really did a lot of research, spent hours combing the classifieds, and some real foot work looking for that special litter that contained my future superstar. You know the kind, the pup thats pedigree contains just the right balance of proven master hunters and versatile champions, he had to have the perfect markings, and his tail had to stand at attention like a soldier when he meant business. After forfeiture of a couple puppy deposits due to not getting exactly what I wanted, I had almost given up when a boring day at work and one more scroll thru Gundog Central yielded what I personally considered perfection out in eastern Iowa. I was on the phone straight away and an immediate trip to the post office after work with deposit in hand began the long wait and picking process and picture messages leading up to eight weeks later when my lovely bride would make the not so short journey to pick up our new champion prospect. He was a beautiful pup. Over the years I have had a bunch of good looking German Shorthaired pointers, but this little guy topped em all. Now after waiting for several weeks, of course I had already named him before I had even met him in person. So a quick visit to the AKC website is all it took, and it was official, my new pup had a new name.........or did he?
