Best Hunting Dog Story

As I have been getting things ready for the upcoming hunting season, it gets me thinking of hunts past, and how much my dog means to me. It seem as if every story I have revolves around something special my dog has done. It may seem stupid to other people, but at that time, there is nothing better.

Here is my story.

A few years ago I was hunting a small piece of cover with my dog Rock, a Vizsla. We had hunted hard this year, and he was hunting well. I had the proud Papa eyes all year. Boy he was spot on!

We had hunted this cover down one side, and were working it back to a small field drive that has a tendency to hold any running birds. I had picked up my first bird on the way down, and if I were lucky enough to pick up another or not, I had to do some things that afternoon, so my hunt was over.

We get about 50 yards from the field drive, and Rock locks up on point. By his posture, I knew he had this bird dead on, the muscles on his back and legs were rippling with anticipation, but other then that, there was not one movement from his body.

I stopped to reflect on the beauty that is a pointing dog. GOD I LOVE THAT. I was only about 10 yards from him, so I must have waited for 30 seconds, just watching him, and waiting, thinking the pressure would be too much for the cagey rooster, and he would bust at any moment.

Nothing.

I decided to walk up slowly and see how long this bird would hold. I walked up to Rock’s tail, took another step….Nothing. I took another step, directly where his nose was pointing. The dog never flinched.

Nothing.

I was amused by the whole thing. He was hunting great, and does not point foot scent like that ever. With a smile on my face, I gave him the “GIT EM” command. He went crazy, working the entire area around me for 20 yards in all directions.

Nothing.

At this point, I had been in the same spot for about 10 minutes, just waiting, letting him work it out. I knew he would figure it out eventually, and I was having a blast watching him work.

Finally, he works right back towards me, and locks up on point within 18″ of the place I have been standing. I have always worked my dog with the understanding that I provide the direction, but he tells me what to do. So I start kicking around with reckless abandon. Two kicks in, a beautiful old rooster flushes so close I can feel his wingbeats on my face. One quick shot from Mr. Benelli, and I have my limit for the day, with a smile that could not be erased for a week.

I know we all have a story or two like that, and I love hearing about a great day in the field with a great dog. They say we are only allowed to have one great dog in a lifetime, and I think I am using mine up right now.

So lets hear them.

A great story.

I will post a few when I get time.

Hey Lip or Tuck,

How about the time at Royal Flush with Rufus and Star

Quote:

---

A great story.

I will post a few when I get time.

Hey Lip or Tuck,
How about the time at Royal Flush with Rufus and Star

---

Same here. Maybe tomorrow I will get to it. Great post Farmboy!

Ron that is definitely a classic.

Great story!!! I will be thinking about the right one to tell.

Mark

Last years was the frist season with my dog Jackson(german short hair). The frist wild rooster that fell to the gun is the one I remenber the most. It did not come until late in Dec. I had shot many game farm bird but the wild rooster did not come late in the season. He put up many hen and some roosters over the season. But mostly it was me letting him down by missing them or others missing them.

On the Saturday before Christmas I took him to a WMA by my house. It about 11:00am when we got there. The main reason why I took him was so he could run and I could mybe get some work done around the house for Christmas. When we got there the parking lot was perty full. So I thought well finding a bird was out of the question. About 10 minn in to the hunt Jackson locked up. I could here the bird moving in the thick cattails. Jackson move a few feet away to block the bird and penned it down. I walked up and kicked the rooster right in the @##. The bird dropped and Jackson brought the bird right to hand. I was grinning from ear to ear. But that lasted only for a few min. because he had locked up agian. As I walked over to him another rooster got up. Another shot and the bird was down. I sent Jackson to get the bird but it was not there. Jackson worked the area over and I saw him dive in to a mound of snow and cattails and come out with the bird. We had are two birds in less then 1/2 hour.

As we were getting back to the truck another group of hunters and there dog were come out too. They ask did you get any birds, we herd you shoot? I said yes got two of them how about you. They told me they had not see a bird all day. It gave me a extra boost to know that my dog could come in behind a group of six hunter and two dogs and still be able to find me two birds.

That day will be forever burned in to my mind. After a long season with out a wild bird and then have it end with two of the best points I seen from him. What a day.

Here one from my old Brittney Zach. A buddy and I were walking a slough and had shot a few rabbits and One pheasant. The brush in alot of places was waist high and thick. There were rabbits everywhere and thats why we came back to this spot to hunt it again. We always did good in this spot and this time was no diffrent. My friend was up on a fence line and I was on the other side of this ditch/slough walking another high spot when A rooster flushed and my friend got off two rounds missing with the first and winging it the second shot.

I seen the bird go down and told dan about where it was. He walked over and couldn’t find the bird so I said call Zach dan and see if he can find it. Dan called him over and told zach, find it Zach. Zach took off like a rocket and dissapeared into the very heavy, unwalkable underbrush. I stood there for a few minutes and Dan walked the opposit direction as we were both looking for Zach in the underbrush and any sign of movement so we could see where he went, the brush was so thick we could see any movement at all. A couple more minutes went by as I walk back the direction we had just came with still no signs of brush movement. Then all of a sudden here came Zack up the hillside and onto the higher ground with a rooster in his mouth still alive and flapping its wings trying to get away.

From where Dan had shot this pheasant to where Zach came out of the brush was 100 yrs or more. He looked at me from 50 yrds and this live winged bird was giving him problems so he put his mouth near the ground, put both his paws on this live rooster while he turned the rooster in his mouth. He picked it back up and looked at me and walked back as proud as a dog could be and held the rooster in his mouth until I took it from him. He sat there wagging his tail a bit as I put the pheasant in my coat then right back in the weeds he went.

This brush was so thick that atleat half was unwalkable and plumb full of rabbits. It was solid rabbit tunnels under the grass and was so thick that once Zach was following the scent of this rooster he was out of sight and impossible to see. We watched trying to follow Zach through the brush but it was impossible. Zach had such a good nose that as soon as he got the scent from this rooster he chased him over 100 yrs through very thick unbrush and caught this rooster.

I already knew Zach was a good dog and we were hunting him 3 to 4 times a week with rest inbetween those days, then we’ed load more shells and go again. After I seen Zach do what he did in almost impossible conditions I knew Zach was one of the best in my eyes.

We hunted Zach as much as we could and hard. We walked up to 10 miles a day and he was muscular and had an unbelievable nose. AS we drove up to an area he’d go wild if the rabbits and birds were moving the day and night befor after leaving thier scent. If we drove up to an area and he didn’t do much in the station wagon, we learned to just drive to the next spot. He was always right by whineing, barking and pressing his nose against the glass in the station wagon if the hunting was going to be good, it always was when Zach told us it was going to be good. All the hair around his nose and the leading edges of his ears and on the front of his family plans was bare skin and he still kept going, locking up and finding birds for us. He was used to bleeding and getting goughed by things that would come from hunting so hard. We took him home at the end of the day and I cleaned his wounds, rest a day then right back out Zach would go. Limits of rabbits and pheasants was commonplace with Zach. A good dog is a dog that you will never forget. I cried like a baby when I lost Zach and I buried my second brittney Sara with Zachs blanket wraped around her. A good dog is a dog you’ll never forget and is a friend for life, I can still feel the strength of his muscles from his legs on my hands. He was one good hunting dog.

I was working just south of the border in central ND.( This was back in ’97 when security and border crossin by “accident” was not so tight) This was to be the last “running free” (no cables on her) workout / wild bird hunt on my GSP gyp b/4 we went to Kansas for the GSPCA All-Age National Championship.
I had last seen here going NE when my training partner came by in a lope (we were hunting off horses ) after a crazy derby. We just cleared a hill and saw my gyp standing on point , across the border, with his non-backing derby zeroing in for a rip of her birds. We kicked the horses into a run and made for the fences that seperated the two pastures from the grassy prairie road that is on the south side of the border. The derby ripped her birds but she was still jacked up high and tight on point. I quick dallied the reins around the wire, pulled my gun from the scabbard, climbed over the fences, broke the gun open and loaded it and walked in on 2 “sleepers” that were laet over from the departed covey of sharpies. I pulled one down and walked back and tapped her on the head for a clean retrieve. My buddy was now back and saw the bird work and said ” If she rolls and does that in Kansas you should be happy”.
I wish I could say good things happened in Kansas but it didn’t play out for us that day. None the less being an amateur and the only one in a field of 43 pros that year was still fun. The blood she had is still in my dogs. I can see me maybe doing something with her grandson who is now a little over a year. He has the same air about him that she did. I sure do miss that old girl.

Those are good ones. Here’s one for the Waterfowlers. A few years back my son and I were on the marsh with our young yellow male lab. A single greenhead come into the decoys and my son made it look easy and dumped it on his first shot. Drake our pup just sat up front not taking his eyes off of that bird in the decoys. We both looked at one another wondering when this young dog was doing to break and jump in. We sat and watched, I even said Drake’s name but still there was no breaking his attention. Finnally I gave him the fetch command “ROCKET” and off the boat he goes. He gets within 3 feet of the duck and it dives down to the bottom of the marsh. “Oh Great” I said, “I really screwed that one up”. Drake swims around and around. He must have felt something hit he foot because before you know it that dog shot under the water and he was no where to be seen. I’m like that’s way cool! We have never worked on anything close to that. What seem to be lifetime that dog was still under the water. I was just about to jump in to find him when up comes Drake covered in muck looking like a black lab instead of yellow AND with the Greenhead in his mouth.

That was the first and last retrieve Drake ever had. He was ran over the very next week.

Ok I have many, but was thinking about this one the other day.

We were walking down a very secluded back farm road pheasant hunting and the dogs are working back and forth. We come to a closed in area with trees on both sides overhanging the road with a barb wire fence real close to the road on our right. Rufus comes barreling through the woods on our left and soon a rooster pops up onto the road right in front of us and runs back off the other side to the right. Then Rufus comes barreling out of the ditch across the road and in a Houdini like fashion magically slips right through the barb wire fence at full speed. My buddies Brian and Brent and I look at each other in amazement and continue watching the whole thing. After a few circles in the woods to our right, here comes the Rooster back still running on the ground. He comes popping out of the woods and back across the road right behind us. Hot on the birds tail is my ever so determined lab now at mach speed. He makes a lil’ leap to get over a downed tree with his total focus on that wiley rooster and he lands smack dab square into the top strand of barbwire fence catching him right in the chest. With the speed and momentum he was carrying into the fence his hind legs go sailing right over the top of him, causing him to do a complete flip in the air as he lands back on his feet, never missing a beat and flushes the Rooster out of the ditch on the other side of the road. My first reaction when he hit and flipped over the fence was panic and fear as I thought he would for sure get tangled and tore up form it. But after watching him land on his feet and not miss a beat and complete the flush after diving into the far ditch. My panic quickly resided as I raised my gun on the rooster that flushed and started to get a bead on him, until I busted into laughter as the bird flew away with no shot fired. I never even got a shot off and now I was on my knees with tears of laughter in my eyes. Rufus soon comes retreating back staring me down with ”THE LOOK” as we are at eye level and he disappointedly trots off and begins searching for he next bird in disgust. Which causes me to even laugh harder then I already was.

Great story’s guys!

Here’s one of my favorites: We were on a large ‘group’ hunt in Iowa on the opener several years back. 8-9 guys lined up with several dogs working back and forth….you know the hunt – the real circus affair. Well, we were nearing the end of our 27 bird limit and a rooster gets up on the end of the line. The last guy in line took a few feathers off it, but it continued on with a dropped leg. We watched it go and go until it lit in a patch of swampy grass about 10 yds across. It was the type of grass that was so thick you could never see your feet when standing in it…….

We made our way down there and all the dogs – at least 6 of them worked that spot over and over – and some of the dumber guys were even in there trampling all over. No bird was found. This went on for a good ten minutes. Some of the guys moved on and continued hunting. After all gave up, I decided to send old my lab,Annie Oakley, in one last time. She was scurrying around and all of a sudden she barked. It was the frustration-type of bark she would do if she was trying to dig something out and it was stuck – like digging out a tree root. I found her in the grass and she had something pinned under her feet and was trying to bite it……..Yup – about 6 inches under her feet, tangled in a mess of grass and vines was a very unhappy, very alive rooster! When I stood up with it, she recieved a lot of cheers and whistles form the group.

I know this does not sound exciting in print – but you had to be there. Everybody had given up and it was a solid 15 to 20 minutes after we started the search for the bird. It ruled.

Tim

These are great guys, gets me really pumped for pheasant season

Keep them coming