Tell your favorite personal hunting story.

[Russmill84]

Just wondering what are some good stories you have to share about your personal experiences with your dogs, other dogs, Any hunting story you got. Lets hear it!

[live4point]

My dog locked up and pointed hard,I stepped in to put up the bird and up came a covey of quail.I picked out a bird and was swinging hard to my left on this bird when my gun barrel hit a quail heading to the right.The quail did a couple of somersalts in the air,then straightened out and went on-needless to say I didn't get a bird on the covey rise.-------Was hunting a fence row and my pointer starting acting real birdy,he wanted to go over the fence.I stopped and told Pete[the pointer] to go ahead and jump the fence.Well,on his leap over the fence,he got that much closer to the birds,and his pointing instincts kicked in,he locked up in mid air--and then fell flat on his head when he landed,he got up shook it off and went back on point,we went over and kicked up a covey of quail.

[wems2371]

Well, I don't have a lot of neat stories about bird finds. Going out every weekend paid very few dividends in our area, but we did have a fun time nonetheless, and I did keep a journal of our days. Our best day, sad to say, was opening day--with finding a covey of quail and a couple pheasant. After that we pretty much averaged sighting one pheasant per outing, and could've left the gun at home. Below is a journal page from maybe our oddest day out.

NOVEMBER 9TH, 2008--Everything BUT a pheasant.

As I write this, we’re all dog tired. Clint and I arrived this morning at some public ground about an hour from home. The cover wasn’t bad as far as height and density, but it was post-flood 2008 flood ground, so there were a lot of foxtails and weeds. Roxi had a couple quick junk points here and there in the first 20 minutes. Then she locked up tight on the bank of a slough. I figured it was junk and she would relocate, but as we got within 100’ she pounced into the grass. Next thing we know, she’s shaking a muskrat. We had already walked over a decaying muskrat 10 minutes before, so I just assumed she’d found this one dead. ‘Cause of course, baby girl wouldn’t kill anything:)……wrong! So for her first fur kill, she did not want to bring it to us. After a few attempts at a recall, we started off in the opposite direction, she dropped the muskrat and came barreling to us. We put the rat in the bird vest, and leashed her out of the area. About 20 minutes after that, she finds a dead duck and carried it to us. It must’ve been shot earlier in the day, and showed no signs of decay and was still floppy—so we did a couple retrieves and heeling with it. Twenty minutes more in the field and we headed back. Now that she was level headed, we pulled the muskrat out and did a little hold/give, heel, and recall work with it. Whether or not we do any future fur work, we do know that we want her to retrieve and return things on command, hence getting the rat back out. She did very well with the rat this time.

So then we got in the truck and headed to the other side of the river, where there were several hundred more acres of upland. As we pulled into the parking lot, we discovered we were a little late, as 6 people and 2 labs were coming out of the field. They said it was pathetic, as far as numbers go, but they did bring down 4 roosters. Being that we'd never been to this WMA before, I guess we picked the wrong half of the park to start on. It seemed futile for us to work the same field they were just coming out of. They were heading about 20 minutes away, to some more public ground we weren’t aware of, and graciously invited us along. We got to the next place and headed out on some very wet ground. Ten minutes in, a father son on the right flank get all excited because our dog had a bird in her mouth. Of course, I wasn’t so excited. Turned out Roxi came across her first woodcock, and happily came carrying it alive back to my husband. Our new found hunting friends were totally impressed, as we tried to explain that that was a no-no. Roxi still points songbirds every now and then, and I have a feeling that when this new species didn’t fly off like a songbird, she took advantage of the situation. Off again we go, for another couple hours through some downright cruddy public ground. Eventually, we did see one rooster that broke cover waaaay in front of the group as we were transitioning from some woods to open ground. One of the men took a shot and the bird folded. At that point, I had Roxi collared, and we let her loose along with the two labs in hopes of finding the downed bird. Well it must not have been hit as well as we all thought, as we worked the area thoroughly repeatedly and came out empty handed. The cover was drudgery, so we walked the longer route of the gravel roads back to the trucks. Along the way, a doe flushed from out of the ditch ahead of us and bolted off. The other dogs didn’t see it, but Roxi ran into the ditch, picked up the scent and was off baying like a hound. Again, our new found hunting friends were impressed that she could scent track a deer in a full-out gallop, while we’re both going “Oh sh__”. She tracked it in an L-shape, probably a good 500 yards, before she gave up……or heard our whistles, or Clint shooting off a couple rounds, or screaming her name. Even our new friends were yelling for her. At the point where she turned around, the Garmin Astro Tracking unit put her return trip at 300 yards. We were fortunate that she was running the entire time in an open cornfield, where we could see her, but it was still wearing on my nerves. I’m thinking we’ll be owning an e-collar by the end of the week. We gave her praise when she got back to us, but leashed her the next 1/4 mile back to the truck.

So it was a day of ups and downs. The dog gave us 4 hours of good field work. We did have an odd moment with the muskrat kill, but were able to get some good command training out of it--along with the found duck. The woodcock was a small stumbling block, but to be expected on first encounter.....and I'm very pleased that her instinct was to bring it back to us vs swallowing it whole. She also worked well out in the field, running independently from the two labradors who clung to their owners sides. We were of course disappointed about the deer chase, but we knew that moment would happen eventually. I only wish we’d had an e-collar on her at the time to trash break with, but we won’t make that mistake twice. It was a very odd day afield.

[zachz]

This years best event with my pup of 10 months, as are pheasant season was coming to an end, we went out, hunted all day, seen nothing, heading to the truck, he's gets on a scent, tracks it into the woods out flys a cockbird, I shot and down it, 2 minutes later going down the same woodline bordered by a field, he gets on another scent, jumps into the field, locks up, then another cockbird bust out 15 yeards ahead, I wing it and know it. Buddy never seen the bird, we go to where I thought it went down, Buddy gets the scent, tracks it for 75 or so yards in some thick stuff that I couldn't get into, then Buddy comes out with it in his mouth alive and brings it to me. Birds were running, I was proud at how Buddy never stop hunting hard.

[live4point]

It was opening day of bird season,and myself and 3 friends were hunting a heavily hunted state conservation area known for good pheasant hunting.We were almost back to the truck from our morning hunt,everybody tired,I told my buddies I wanted to hunt the corner section close to where we were parked.The other guys said have at it,they were ready to rest thier legs.I took my dog on over to the corner section to hunt it out,and he shortly went on point,I stepped in to put the bird up,but the rooster didn't fly,he took of running,apparently had been winged by another hunter.The bird headed right at a woven wire fence with myself and my dog running after it.I caught up with the bird at the fence as he couldn't get thru,and reached down and picked him up,and cradled him in my arm,then headed back to the truck.As I approached my buddies,who were standing around the truck bed resting and shootin the bull,they were surprised to see me carrying the rooster.One of them said they didn't even hear me shoot.I didn't say a word until I got next to one of my buddies,I asked him to hold the bird while I put my gun away.I handed him the bird,and as soon as he took it from me the rooster raised his head and looked my buddy right in the face,he about soiled his union suit He dropped the bird and my dog had to chase it again.I liked to never quit laughing!

[DSemple]

About 5 years ago, hunting with my son, we had a cripple pheasant run down a badger hole. I didn’t believe it when my son told me what happened, but when I had him show me the location sure enough our dog Liz comes right back on point looking straight down the hole. Leery about sticking my arm down a badger hole, I stuck a stick in the hole first and sure as $hit about 4 feet down I could feel that pheasant in there. So I went ahead and laid down on my side and reached way down in that hole as far as I could. Well with my whole shoulder as well as my arm in that hole, I was able to grab that pheasant by the tip of its tail feathers and work it out of there. Nice big rooster. Never knew a pheasant would run down a hole in the ground.

Well fast forward 5 years to this last season in early November about the same thing happens, this time hunting with my wife and a buddy. He hasn’t actually seen the bird run down the hole, but his dog acts like it is down there. So puffing up, I get another stick and say “watch this” to my wife who is standing right next to me watching and poke a stick down that hole, prodding all around. About the time I think I’ve found it, a hissing, snarling and spitting Bobcat comes flying out of that hole about 6” from my nose. It runs right between my wife and I, scarring the ever loving begesus out of both of us.

She says I'm a moron. ....Don

[Kmack]

Pheasant hunting in western Kansas. Late afternoon. I was tired from walking the fields all day so I took a turn as blocker for my dad and a couple of hunting buddies. A quarter of the way toward me I here them shouting HEN HEN HEN. About that time I see the bird coming toward me and I watch as it veers off to the north, crosses the road, and all of a sudden KA-POW and a ball of fire in the sky as the bird drops straight to the ground dead as can be. The other guys come running up yelling at me about shooting a hen etc. They didn't believe me when I said I never even fired a shot but when we got to where the bird fell it was still smoldering. The stupid thing flew right into the power lines and fried itself. To this day my dad makes fun of me for shooting a hen...

[loomisfun]

I took my aging Brittany on what would be her final trip west. She had hunted for the first 4 weeks of the 2006 bird season without incident. Her eyesight was poor but she slowed herself down to accomodate for that. Everything else was that of a dog 4 years younger according to her vet. Seemingly overnight she lost her vision. Apparently what happened is that the cornea hardened and eventually "froze" the pupil open which let WAY too much light in for her to see effectively. Her night vision was still pretty good. Anyway, on the story....

She made the trip with me as she had 15 times previously. It was obvious though that once we arrived there were too many perils in the field for her to contend with. Fences, ditches, trees, you name it she ran into it. She rode around with us all day from field to field and was ready to go as soon as we opened the door. Being the veteran that she was she knew what she was missing but resigned herself to riding shotgun and protecting the truck while we were off in the grass. I tried to find areas that I could run her and try to get what I knew would be her last bird.

My dad and his friend decided to hunt a slough and I said that I would sit it out as the cover wasn't suitable for 3 guns. I decided at the last minute to instead walk the roadside ditch along the fields that we had access to. The wind was blowing pretty hard but was favorable for Bailey to catch sent of any birds in the ditch. I had gone only about 50 yards when 6 hens busted out ahead of us. I could tell that Bailey was working them but also knew that she had neither heard or seen them vacate. She moved along a little slower and locked up on point about 25 yards ahead, exactly where the birds had just left. She was pointing on the other side of the fence and was actually halfway through it although I have no idea if she even knew it was there. On the road behind me came the farmer, of the ground we were on, with two loaded grain wagons. I waved as he went by. I left Bailey on point as I didn't want her to realize the birds had gone and jump out into the road in front of the tractor. It took the farmer 3+ minutes to get by us as he had to stop at the corner that we had been working towards and then bring his rig back up to speed. All this while Bailey was on point and I was certain that the birds (hens) had already left. I walked up to her side and praised my old dog for holding such a fine point and stepped on the bottom strand of wire while pulling the second strand up to allow her passage through. At that moment I was caught off guard by a rooster jumping from the grass and turning with the wind. I emptied my gun but he kept beating his wings and was lost from sight moments later as he had cleared a rise and I was down in the ditch. We finished the walk and I returned back to the truck, dejected. I was extremely disappointed in myself for not coming through for my pup.

My Dad and his friend hunted back to the truck about 10 minutes later. They had heard me shoot. They both were excited that Bailey had found and pointed her last bird and that I was able to connect on it for her. I said, "what, I didn't get that bird" to which they replied it dropped stone dead from the sky. From their vantage point they watched the bird fall some into a cut corn field. We spent the last hour of shooting time finding the dead bird. The bird was found 400 yards from where I had shot at it and it had indeed dropped dead. The golden pellet had come through for me. We were able to get some good photos of Bailey and her last bird afterall.

Loomisfun

[texscala]

I have had some great times with my young pup these last 2 seasons. The first bird I shot over Arrow came in some thick stuff when she was 6 months old. I came around a corner and there was my little French Britt solid as a rock. I moved in and a sparrow flew out from under her. Arrow never moved and I relaxed as I was sure she was pointing a tweety bird. At that moment A nice ruffy exploded from the oak ahead and I swung fast and with a shot the bird dropped. Arrow went in and slammed on point again. I put the gun down and tried to work into the shrubbery in hopes of helping the pup with the retrieve. As I got a foot or so from the bird it took off and sailed across the ravine we were hunting. A buddy and I spent the better part of an hour looking for, flushing, and missing shots at this bird. On or last attempt his lab ran in and grabbed the bird before it could get up again.

This year I have had a hard time shooting and missed many chukars that my dog had worked flawlessly. Last week I decided to try a new 2o gauge SxS in the rotation and see what would happen. Right off the bat my pup pointed a covey of about 20 sage grouse which unfortunately are out of season. After a few miles and a thousand feet of elevation gain we finally found fresh tracks in the snow. The birds flushed wild a good 100 yards in front of us. We watched where they had went and gave chase. I stayed went low and a buddy stayed high as we covered the 1/2 mile to where they had gone. I heard my buddy yell "Birds!!!" and then a shot. As I looked up I saw three chukars bending hard around the mountain and as they straightened out they were heading right for me. I took aim and fired as the bird closed to whiten 10 yards. As the shot went off I could see the bird loose the ability to control itself but it was passed me in a flash. I had no idea where the bird had gone as I was standing on a small cliff. I knew the bird was hit but I also know how chukars can run. I jumped off the rocks and started working towards where the bird was heading yelling "Dead bird, dead bird" to the pup. Arrow went to work with her nose to the ground and soon gave a quick turn as she jumped to another cliff and pounced on the bird.

She brought it back and we called it a day.

[jgf@gratiot]

Last fall hunting in ND on a flat, my dog Ottimer locks up on point with her six month old pup next her her, and a covey of Huns go up. Me and my friend took a couple, the dog retreives one, I get it from her, ring its neck, and throw it in my game pouch. About 500 yards later my game pouch starts flopping, out jumps the Hun on the ground next to me, I stand there kind of smirking, the dog was at heel so she started to come after it, and off took the bird over a big drawl. I pull up my gun, shoot twice, hit it once but not hard, needless to say it flew across this big valley about another 500 yards. I got an ok mark on it, walk back down through this big valley up to the other edge which is wheat stubble, and the dog goes on point. I look and all of a sudden, the bird is running. I send the dog on and she relocates about 50 yards later, and I say ok fetch, and she grabs it and brings it to me. The little sob was still flopping some so I finally gave him a solid whack, needless to say those are tough little buggers.

[WolfMansDad]

At the end of a day of quail hunting, many years ago in Tennessee, Dad and I were out a little too late. Clouds came up, the sun went down, there was no moon, and it got plumb dark. You could tell the sky from the ground, but not much else. Oh, and you could kind of make out the white patches on the dog, a belton/tri-color llewellin setter named Millie. Well, on the way back to the truck, Millie's bell stops all of a sudden in front of us, and she's locked up on point in the dark. Dad says he can't see her, but I think I can make her out, so I go up towards what I think is the front end of the dog and flush the bird. I got an almost instantaneous glimpse of it against the sky as it goes between two trees, when BAM, Dad shoots. Millie was off like a shot at the sound of the gun, and pretty soon she's coming back in her "fetch" gait, like she has a dead bird in her mouth! Halfway back she stops, retches, and very clearly spits out whatever she has in her mouth. We tell her to "fetch," and she picks it back up and tries to bring it to us, but she has to stop two more times to drop it and dry heave. Turns out it was a woodcock, the first and last one we ever shot.

Dad was badly nearsighted and couldn't see his own feet without his glasses. He seldom hunted with me and the dogs, but he did regularly hunt doves and never missed, ever. I don't know how he managed to shoot that woodcock in the dark, but from then on I suspected that he used The Force when shotgunning, instead of using the bead like mere mortals.