| Hunting dogs, pheasants provide plenty of excitement |
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| News | |||
| Written by Dave Alsbrooks | |||
| Friday, 05 February 2010 09:00 | |||
Jan. 31 was the last day of the Kansas pheasant season. I have not had the opportunity to say “yes” to any of the invitations to go west and hunt birds. The weather was not cooperating for any type of comfortable fishing this past week, and I was searching for some way to get outside to enjoy a rare nice February day.  I have a friend with a farm near Fontana who has not been out this year to bird hunt either. My Labrador retriever, Buckley, had not hunted quail or pheasants for a few years. I made a few phone calls and acquired 10 cock pheasants to place on his Fontana farm for an afternoon hunt. My friend, Rob, and his daughter met my wife and me at about 2 p.m., along with three excited dogs. We had about 200 acres of open grass and draws on which to place the birds in tall grass and brush piles. There was just enough snow left on the ground to hide the birds underneath. We placed each bird in a safe shooting location. The first eight birds sat still as we moved from thicket to thicket.  At the north side of the field stood 10 acres of thick hay, and we thought maybe we would set a few pheasants loose in the grass for the dogs to track. Bad idea. Both birds took flight as quick as we let them run into the grass. These were good flying farm-raised birds. They landed at the far end of the farm. We still had a chance of finding them, maybe. As we all prepared for the hunt at the trucks, the excitement grew for us two old hunters. It was almost like actually going out to the wild to chase birds. We knew that this would be the same, but the next few hours proved to be more than we hoped for. As the four of us walked down to the first bird area, the dogs were running a bit too excited. We worked to control the dogs; none of the three had hunted this year. I kept my eyes and ears glued forward for that first pheasant rise. Nothing. Had we missed where we placed the bird? Had it run off to another brush pile? How could one Labrador, one pointer, and one large house dog miss a bird sitting in the grass? Apparently, this afternoon was not going to be the easy old-fashioned turkey shoot that we expected. After 10 minutes of disbelief from losing, now, our third bird, we moved on to the next pheasant station. As the dogs worked this area, we could see the bird holding tight in the snow. The dogs had not yet picked up the birds’ scent. We would have to manage this bird better. The dogs had to get focused on the task rather quickly to make this shoot successful. After a few minutes of work, the 1-year-old pointer locked tight on point. After another few minutes of showing the other two dogs what was expected of them, the bird flushed. The cock squawked, Rob shot, and the bird fell. The pointer was on the bird as it hit the ground. Buckley was next to reach the kill, and he had the bird removed forcefully from the young pointer with one bite. The two hunting dogs now were following their instincts, and the hunt was on. It was exciting. The quick rush of adrenaline and the satisfaction of a well placed shot from Rob brought back good memories of past wing shooting with other hunting buddies. Now we were cookin’. As we approached the next bird station, I had not pulled a trigger, and four of the 10 birds were gone. The dogs were now focusing on the task of finding more birds. The next bird had also moved, but the dogs picked up the scent quickly, and a few minutes later we had a nice point and time to set up. I called in Buckley for the flush. Buckley came in strong and literally lifted the bird into the air with his nose. As the bird squawked and rose to my left, I could feel my natural instincts kick in, and the next few seconds felt like I was in slow motion. This was my shot; Rob was to my right and had no clearance to shoot over me. The bird was close, and I had to wait as I clicked off the safety and swung toward the bird. This rooster was still trying to gain altitude as I leaned forward to get on him. I pulled the trigger without even thinking. My reaction time for bird hunting is not lost, just a little slower now. Out of the corner of my eye I picked up Buckley in a full run as I pulled the trigger. It was a clean kill, and Buckley had been in motion with me every split second. The bird hit the ground just before Buckley reached the spot. There was no doubt that this was his bird this time. It took a few minutes of high-fiving my hunting buddy and taking pictures for me to recall each vivid moment of that sequence. I was now satisfied, and the rest of the day would be extra fun. For the next two hours we hunted the remaining birds. Some had moved, some flushed far out, and some just plain disappeared. We only missed one time, when we failed to follow the dogs. Always trust your dog if he or she is on scent, lesson learned again! As we hunted, the dogs got better, and we got smarter. Old skills kick in when you start remembering mistakes of the distant and recent past. We ended the afternoon with eight of the 10 birds down. We made some exciting long shots, some difficult timber shots, and the dogs even found that first bird we lost while we were walking back to the truck. As we loaded up the dogs and counted the pheasants on the tailgate, both hunters were thankful for the great weather, the two ladies who tagged along, and the opportunity to once again hunt behind our favorite hunting canine companions. We started the day understanding the convenient hunt that we had put together for the day; we ended the hunt with great memories and childlike enthusiasm for the next time we can break away for just a few hours.
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