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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.
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.
Running Spring Woodcock - By Tom Keer
A pro trainer recently asked me about my training bird bill.
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.
Shadow Oak Bo Remembered by Tom Word
I treasure many memories of Shadow Oak Bo, the first and clearest (I can watch it like a movie in mind's eye today) at Coney Lake in the Lee County All-Age when Bo was a first year. I was riding with Luke Weaver in his pickup, following in the course path. Bo had a pretty find just ahead and we both said, "Wow, that's a handsome setter." A couple minutes later he had another and got too close, bumping the bird. Luke stopped where we could watch Robin after judges and gallery moved on. Robin administered a stern correction with a rein to Bo's chest, and an instant after, Bo, undaunted, was licking Robin's hands, with tail wagging, happy as could be.
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.
Skin Laceration Repair in the Field by Shawn Wayment DVM
There is nothing finer than being afield in autumn's country with bird dogs. The whir of wings as a covey of scaled quail erupts from the sand sage can stir the cholesterol from the morning's greasy-spoon-country-dinner breakfast. Gun smoke clears the air as the setter climbs through the taut five-stranded barbed wire fence retrieving the first bird of the day. This is the Wild West, and ranchers want assurance that their livestock are protected. As you reach down to take the bird your well trained setter delivers gently to hand, you notice fresh blood on the dorsal surface of her back. A nimrod's classic morning has now turned into a trip to the local vet ... which in this case is 150 nautical miles from where the event occurred and it is Sunday.
Rainy Day Dove Shoot
I woke up this morning to pouring rain here in Gainesville, FL. My spirits were also a bit damp as I had plans to go to Watermelon Pond Plantation in Archer, FL to work my German Shorthaired Pointer, Hank, with bird dog trainer extraordinaire, Kate Boulos. A dove shoot was planned for the afternoon. When the rain stopped around 12:00 pm, I was happy. My fiancee and I loaded up Hank and headed out with a cooler full of cold drinks and a mullet dip for the cookout. I prepared it last night after a great day of red fishing out of Cedar Key. It turned out great and everyone seemed to enjoy it. We arrived in plenty of time to grab a quick snack of delicious bar b qued pork, chili cheese dip and baked beans and then headed out to the quail woods.
