Old Stories – 2

Being at the start of the second week of October, it makes me remember all the great grouse and woodcock hunts this time of year in Wisconsin.  I remember a hunt with our two bird dogs, Sally and Lily.  Sally was towards the end of her mediocre career.  She had turned out to be a great pet and a loving dog, but wasn’t too keen on pointing birds.  Lily was a young dog coming into her own.  She was bored with quail but did a nice job on them anyways.  On the other hand, she was a terror on grouse.  They had to hate her!  She was developing a nice pattern and was one of the few dogs that we had seen actually point and hold on grouse.  This day turned out to be a special day for both dogs.

We were parked in an area that we had hunted the prior year and knew was great for both grouse and woodcock.  From the parking location, to our left was an area of low briars and tall pines.  Beyond the end of the pines, was a slight hill covered in poplar trees.  That went all the way around to the right and eventually lead to the creek.  A nice trail split the two areas.  We headed directly up the trail.  The dogs split to both sides.  Within minutes a grouse flushed from our right, crossed the trail and cruised unscathed into the briars.  We opted to head off the left to pursue this grouse through the pines.  We headed through the briars and got another flush.  This one hit the ground at the first shot from the over and under.  Dad made a great shot.  Sally ran over and proudly brought the bird back to him.  We continued down through the briars.  Lily was working beautifully.  She was crossing between us at about 25 – 40 yards.  Lily found three more birds in a short time, but our shooting percentages were dropping quickly.  We quartered our way towards the hill of poplars.  Right at the edge of the pines, Lily pointed and this time my 12 gauge was successful.  Within seconds, Sally retrieved the bird and brought to me.  She was proving to be highly effective on dead and crippled birds.  We turned to the right and walked down the split of poplars and pines.  It wasn’t easy walking, but the area was perfect for grouse.  Lily went on point again.  This time the bird headed towards the poplar but dad’s 20 gauge knocked him down.  Unfortunately, this bird went down very alive.  Both Lily and Sally went in looking for it, but after 20 minutes of no luck and disappointed we moved on through the poplars.  About 300 yards down, we encountered our first woodcock of the day.  We fired simultaneously and the bird fell to the ground.  We continued down to the creek and Lily found two more birds and Sally found one.  Only one of the three found the bag.  I have to say that if you have never hunted grouse or woodcock, you have no idea how tough of shooting this is.  Often you are slipping, falling, bouncing the gun off a tree as you try to make a shot.  I think the birds wait until you are in the most contorted position to flush and then laugh at you all the way to the next county.

We took about two hours to circle back to the truck.  Sally was tired and trotted quickly to the truck.  She was definitely showing her age, but we couldn’t ever stand to leave her behind.  She looked shocked as we passed the truck, but she followed anyways.  We headed back to where we earlier lost the grouse.  Along the way, we flushed another grouse that escaped the wrath of the four shots.  Arriving back in the general area of the lost bird, the dogs seemed to sense what we were up to.  They dove into the brush and started searching.  Lily moved fairly quickly across the hillside.  She had already lost interest.  Somehow we had lost track of Sally trying to keep up with Lily.  We turned around to look for her, when all of a sudden we heard this crashing noise coming across the hillside.  Sally came jumping over a downed tree in hot pursuit of a running grouse.  Running with the energy of a pup, she finally caught up with the crippled bird after about 50 yards.  She carried the bird down to us.  She was carrying it so softly, it was still alive when she made the transfer to us.  Completely amazed with her new-found skill, we headed back to the truck to give her and us a much-needed break.  The senior dog needed a boost to get into the Bronco, which we gladly gave her.  We enjoyed lunch on the tailgate and then headed to our next spot.

The memory of Sally in her later years in life racing across that hillside on the tail feathers of a grouse is one that I hope never escapes me.  She had limited moments in the field, but when she did it was always special and this one topped them all!