Finn had shown much promise as a pheasant dog, last year, all of seven months old. Found birds, pointed birds, pointed birds where other groups with dogs had just before gone through, pointed a “covey” of four roosters, that rose one by one, the young pup staunchly remaining on point, while Kyle and I managed to kill none of them. Expectations for this season were not high, but well above moderate.
The “back 40” partridge coveys had provided good practice material, in early spring, before nesting, and in the weeks leading up to the start of the season, with the chicks flying as wild as their parents. It was not without a bit of pride that I dropped the odd hint about his steadiness. Shooting chukars during training days and a NAVHDA test had honed my skills a bit too, I thought. We were ready to have a great pheasant season!
We had drawn three slots at the Taber Pheasant Festival to kick things off. The first afternoon Finn and I and nobody else, because everybody canceled, overlooked an expanse of cattails, with a few drainage ditches leading in and out of it. I was just going to take it slow, let Finn do his thing, get some good points, work on steadiness, and perhaps shoot a bird. That cockiness was rudely and rightly crushed when the first bird went up. A straightaway, the gimme of upland shots, bird well within range, but wait, Finn hadn’t pointed it. Never mind, I was already swinging and missing. I tried to convince myself I didn’t want to kill that bird anyway, because I was training the pup to be steady, but lying to yourself is rather hard.
It went downhill from there. My notes say I shot seven times, and the limit for pheasants is two. Finn managed two sort-of points, which gave some hope, and I managed a couple of hits, but we flushed more birds without points or shots. Finn worked hard, but got a little flustered by the raucous birds, and so did I.
The next day, Finn’s brother King came out to play, and we managed to put up a fair number of birds. Miraculously I hit two with two shots, but again points were hard to come by. The birds tended to run out in front of the dogs, and neither of them hesitated to snort them up via their tracks. The third day Finn made a beautiful point on a covey of huns, and I promptly missed.
A week later we were out again, found pheasants and sharpies, got a nice point on a hen pheasant, and I double missed a rooster. Twice. Managed to shoot a consolation sharptailed grouse, so the dog kept some faith in my skills.
There was one redemption weekend left in the schedule. Finn could use some solid points, and I could use some solid hits. We started off fantastic, as Finn worked a patch of buck brush along a coulee, and drew to a point. Unfortunately the bird flushed wild before Kyle could get in range. Not much later he pointed again, at the base of some brush in the same coulee, and held till I got close. When the bird flushed, Kyle got a little trigger happy and the close hit pre-tenderized the meat sufficiently. Finn didn’t skip a beat retrieving.
The pup was having a great day. As we were walking back along the opposite side of the coulee, he went back to where we had already passed. “He’ll probably find one all the way down in there”, Kyle said, and as if on cue, Finn pointed. I started down towards him, but was still a little far off when the rooster flushed. It took a second or two before my brain kicked in, but I managed an impressive shot – at least I like to think of it as such – on the quartering bird, leading him by a double body length. Nice retrieve to hand followed.
The following day we hunted another long, wide coulee with lots of cover on one side and along the creek in the bottom, and the odd grove of trees on the opposite side. Finn pointed a bird right off the bat, but broke and grabbed the hen. Luckily he is fairly gentle and we managed to send the bird off flying minus some feathers. Not much further Finn worked a particular spot for a minute or two, breaking off but returning a few times, until finally a rooster emerged and rose above the low brush, quartering away until my shot connected. Two for two for the weekend, and half-decent points, we could have quit and gone home happy right there.
Finn dug up a few more birds from the snow, but all flushed out of my range, or obscured by cover. On the way back, looping through a connecting coulee, he disappeared into some high bush and I lost sight of him. “He may be onto something there”, Kyle yelled from across the coulee, and directed me. I found him on point in thick cover, but my approach was too much of an incentive and he dug in. After a few tries he pushed out a hen pheasant. While not textbook, the length of holding point until I got there was impressive. Best we’d seen all season.
We ended the day, and pheasant season, by a quick snapshot at a hun, that he neatly retrieved. Three for three for the shooter, and some nice points and solid retrieves by the dog. We both need some polishing around the edges, but I think the team has potential.
F.