This is an incredible feat that my female Black Labrador, Mandy, performed while dove hunting. Mandy and I went dove hunting at a state public hunting area. We set up along side a deep water canal to pass shoot doves. There were not many doves flying that day, but I killed a few and Mandy retrieved. One dove went down on the other side of the canal and got lodged in the upper part of a blackberry tangle. Mandy had marked the bird down and swam over to get the dove. Well she could smell the dove, but couldn't get to it and she finally came back without the dove. A week later we went back to the same spot. Mandy immediately swam over to the spot where the dove went down the previous week. The dove had decayed enough that it fell to the ground under the blackberry bush. Mandy picked up that dove and brought it back to me. I call that incredible.

Let's hear about the incredible feats your hunting dog has performed.

Don't know about amazing feats but I had a dog who could count and got mad if you shot and did not kill birds. If you shot twice from the duck blind you better have a bird down or he would growl at you. Miss again and he was known to bark or nip your waders. With his reputation guest did not like to make him grumpy by missing.

His son was worse. Hunted him so long alone, by myself, he knew three shots meant three birds at absolute best, often just one or two. One day I knocked down four teal with two shots. Just freak luck at work. Hitting two teal when they buzzed the decoys is a major feat. Out he went for the first bird, goes back out for the second and returns to the blind knowing he was done. It took effort to get him do a blind retrieve on the third. He flat out refused to go for the fourth. Not to be outdone by a dog I waited until he got comfortable and shot over the decoys. Out he goes for the fourth bird on a difficult blind retrieve. Swear when he came back with the bird his look was I told you that there was no bird. You had to shoot another bird and pretend it was the same bird. I miss those dogs.

Pointing a bird while retrieving one just shot. Running past hen pheasants to point a rooster. Working a field that has just been finished by other hunters, with, or, without dogs, and coming up with birds.

Did you keep/eat the dove the dog found that was, er, past it's due date? That would be sorta' incredible, too.

I have heard of people "aging" or "hanging" birds, but, haven't tried same.

Doubt I will.


Best,
Ted

My next to the last Lab, Suwannee often retrieved two wood ducks at once, to save the extra swim, I guess. The most incredible feat my dogs have pulled off though was when my all time best pointer, Sugar pointed on the edge of a pond.

There was no bird but she would not give up the point. I noticed a small dry ground island out mid pond, and threw a stick out to it. That flushed the resourceful quail which was hiding there and I shot the bird.

Sugar, who had never ever given any indication that she even knew how to swim made the water retrieve. I happened to be on a plantation when that occured and the owner offered me two grand for her on the spot.

Turned him down of course and on the ride home my older and wiser law/hunting partner observed that he'd just seen two of the biggest fools ever. The plantation owner for offering that much money for a plug bird dog, and me for turning it down!...Geo

A co-worker asked me if he could go goose hunting with me sometime and I told him the next weekend would be good for me. He said that he would drive and showed up on a Friday night at my house in a P/U truck and cab over camper. I had bags of decoys in my driveway along with a shotgun, ammo and my Lab.

He said, “What’s with the dog?”
I told him the dog will retrieve our birds and he said that the dog would have to ride at my feet, because he didn’t want him on his seats. The Lab didn’t mind because he got his head and ears massaged during the 1 ½ hour drive to the marsh.

We were hunting Canada Geese in a wet, muddy field and every step that you took made you taller. My co-worker shot at and wing tipped Honker. The bird sailed over a barbed fence, across a full irrigation canal, over another barbed wire fence and disappeared from sight.


Zack, my Lab watched as the bird went out of sight and I sent him. We watched Zack sail over the fences, swim the canal and disappear from sight.

15 minutes later a black dog could be seen coming our way with a mouth full of very live goose. He sailed over the fence, swam the canal and sailed over the second fence, delivering the goose to hand with a very happy tail.

Zack continued to retrieve our birds until we each had a limit and my co-worker was impressed.

On the way home, my wet muddy dog rode in the camper on my co-workers bed. I told him that wasn’t necessary and as before the dog could ride on the floor between my legs. He said, “Zack worked hard and deserves a comfortable bed, and the bedding can be washed.”

I remember a Pointer drifting out of sight and not responding. I was steamed. Covered a lot of ground and time looking for her, when I finally noticed another hunter off in the distance. I figured I should go over and ask if he had seen her. As I was getting closer, I noticed my pup was hunting with his two dogs.

Nice old timer, wish I had bothered to appreciate the nice small bore side by side he was carrying, but I wanted to strangle my dog. He had a good game bag of bobwhites and his dogs were nicely finished.

He says hi, this must be your dog. I'm not real chatty, but he adds in, she's good little dog, knows what she's doing. Too bad it has to hit almost like a freight train, but it's probably me not the dog. We have a regular chat for a minute, then down the road, I let the pup teach me how to hunt birds.

What impressed me the most was Mandy's memory. Dogs really do have good memories. That dove was aged a little too much for me, Ted!

once had a setter that would range far...once he got on point he was like stone...he went on point the end of october...could not find him...came back in may and found his skeleton...still on point...grouse skeleton was there as well, still crouched low with wing bones set to fly...

Great stories. I once had a setter that hunted close and would find birds that others walked over. Sometimes I would try and hide on her and watch what she would do. She would stop hunting and start looking for me.
Her mother was a pretty good dog and on running pheasants she would break and make a long arc to intercept them. That made them hold until we got there.

Those were the days when there were birds around.

Jim, this is a fun subject. Your thought on memory stirred mine. In the 80s I had a German Wirehair female. She had been given to me as a pup by an old hunting friend in Neb.. I lived in Alaska. My friend's old male was slowing down and my friend wanted a pup out of him. I left my female in Neb. with him after the fall season for breeding. Spring came and went and she did not get pregnant. My friend still wanted a pup from his male, so I said just keep her for the next "season". That next summer , after almost 2 years, she had a litter. At the end of the summer on a late night flight, she came back to Alaska. In the morning she was in the house, and I wanted the newspaper. Two years ago, she would bolt the door and fetch the paper down 50 yards of driveway. I opened the door and said fetch it up, and she ran down the driveway, grabbed the paper along the road, and brought it back. I was amazed that she still remembered.

Doc Drew's pup T-bone backing technique.

jdw: you talkin northumberland county, pa per chance?

Was driving 100 miles north of Toronto along a highway in an SUV. Just my wife and I and our two setters on a summer Friday on our way to our sailboat on Lake Huron (Georgian Bay) for the weekend. The back seats are folded flat because it's just the two of us and it means lots of space for the dogs.

Suddenly, one dog locks on point looking out the window of one of the rear side doors. Won't budge and I'm doing 70 MPH so I can't imagine what she is looking at that wouldn't have disappeared in the rear view mirror.

Finally figure it out with the help of my wife. She was staring at a jet overhead at about 15,000-20,000 feet. Flight path of jets heading west out of Toronto International.

for a few years had the privilege to hunt grouse with a dynamic duo...a male setter and a female beagle...

setter would be out front casting from side to side. beagle would bring up the rear behind me...

sometimes setter would miss a bird that would hold tight, even after setter and i walked by...beagle would often scent bird and begin to yip...time to get ready for a shot!

My French Britany pup was 7 months old and partially trained on planted birds and loved retrieving quail, not so pigeons. Took her out for the first time on Gambel's quail a little early in her training anyway. Gambel's are notorious runners but she came up firm on point and my son in law was sent about 20 yds around. He found nothing in front of her. I released the point and she went about 100 yds and locked up again. This time I sent the son in law around the side and upwind a 100 yds then back toward us. She was pointing a small covey which flushed about 35 yds in front. Instead of sending the quail running she was stopping well short which is a feat few pointing dogs learn on Gambel and Scaly coveys. She continued to work that way for the next 13 years. Shooting pointed coveys is very unusual. And I never lost a downed bird - in fact she vacuumed up several wounded birds each season which some other party had lost. Sure miss her.

Ed, that was mostly Lehigh County, but there were plenty of pheasants back then in Bucks County where I lived.

My friend owned the mother of my setter and she along with my dog were house dogs as well. I watched one time as he told Poly to fetch his slippers, which she did.
My friends brother used to brag how good she was and took her hunting with some friends, she would not hunt for him, but if I took her when he was re-activated into the Navy, she would hunt for me.

I hesitate to even tell this story but here goes...
I had just let my GSP out of the truck at a state WMA and had loaded my gun....She made a couple of cast and went on point.
I flushed a small covey of quail and knocked down one bird which had flown down an access road. It had rained the night before and there was a lot of mud holes and standing water. My dog went for the retrieve but couldn't locate the bird. Back and forth she went to no avail. She eventually approached a large deep mud hole and started to dig... Feathers started appearing on the water and out came the quail still alive!! My brother was with me and gave me one of those "What the Hell" looks! I can't explain it....

Jerry, your Mearns Quail story reminded me of Emily, my Britt when she was a pup.
I and two friends went to Arizona to hunt Mearns Quail and I took Emily, my 6 month old Brittany.
One of the Shorthair's went on point and Emily was on high ground just behind the pointing dog. She launched herself and landed in the middle of the covey, snapped her head around and gave me a grin.
Later, she redeemed herself with many points and retrieves.

I've had two incredible hunting dog feats.

The first happened in about 1976 while duck hunting with my young pup Duke, an English Springer Spaniel on a pothole off the Wolf River in Northeastern Wisconsin when a trio of drake Mallards suddenly appeared over the tree tops and were circling the pothole in an inverted V formation, as they came past for their third go 'round I took one shot with my 20-ga. Ithaca/SKB 280's IC barrel shooting 3" 7 1/2s. All three fell to the water dead. Duke made the triple retrieve when he was just 8 months of age.

The 2nd was about three years ago, my English Setter Winston stopped to point a woodcock while retrieving another. Unfortunately, I didn't connect on the 2nd bird. Here's a pic of that event:

Although it didn't involve birds, I like Daryl's story the best.

Sometimes even good things can happen to a fool, and Lady was one of those blessings. I had a neighbor with a registered lab [censored] desperate to find a home for nine puppies; so he came to me with a offer to take my pic for free. I didn't want a dog, but my neighbor insisted and my youngest son who was with me at the time (and then named this lab Lady) swayed the argument in my neighbor's favor till I had no choice. In exasperation, I declared that I had no need of a registered lab pup because I didn't have a clue as to how to train the damn thing. But my neighbor even had a counter for that argument. He then went into his garage, brought out a book called "Water Dog" buy Richard A. Woolters and said; "read this book and do what it sez, and you'll be fine"! Well I did, at least for the most part; and it seems this little black lab (AKC - Tom's Redneck) Lady seemed almost human at times, so much so that most folks probably wouldn't believe the amazing stories I can tell of things I've witnessed her do. Lady became a member of the family in no time at all, and I quickly learned that she absolutely lived to hunt; and whenever we went dove shooting Lady was all business. So when I missed (was very often), she seemed to take it personally and would glare at me disgustedly as if to say; "how in hello could you have missed that bird"! So, you say, what were some of the things I saw her do? On one "hot" early morning December dove shoot attended by a large number of shooters; with birds flying everywhere, guns popping, doves falling, and people shouting I decided it best to keep her on a lease and pick up my birds when the flights slowed; till that time I'd just mark downed birds. So, while shooting I had one bird sail about 100 yards across the pasture and go down at the edge of a hog-wire fence row; so when the action subsided I had Lady pick up all my nearby birds, then we moved across the pasture to hunt the bird in the fence row. As we neared the fence row I could see the bottom strand of the wire fence actually on the ground. Lady was obviously too large to squeeze thru the fence and was trained not to climb fences; and as this fence seemed to stretch for hundreds of yards, I watched to see what she would do. As she neared the fence it was clear she smelled a bird in the thick vine growth on the other side and very quickly located the dead dove about 12" or so inside the fence. She tried sticking her head thru the fence to no avail and began pacing up and down the fence row looking for an opening. Not finding an opening, she came back to the point where the bird lay; she got her body as close against the fence as possible and laid down on her left side. She then reached her paw thru the wire and slapped at the bird until she had it in a position to get it in her mouth, at which point she proudly put the bird in my hand. To me this was a demonstration of intelligence; Lady faced a dilemma; and with no direction from me devised a plan to solve her problem.
In this same pasture on another Saturday morning, a shoot again attended by a number of shooters; I figured I best keep her on a lease, as she was obviously very excited by all the commotion. Although still missing my share of shots, I was also connecting on my share and marking them down for retrieval later. As the morning progressed, I knocked down a pair with my CHE Parker; and a few minutes later was surprised by 3 birds passing overhead and moving away. I fired too quickly and missed with the right, then feathered the bird well with the left; but it didn't fall, sailing instead and ultimately going down at the base of a hay roll far across the field. When I realized the bird was definitely going down (Lady's eyes were already glued to the bird); I shouted "mark", unleashed Lady, and then shouted "back"! Away she went, quickly circled the hay bale and headed back to me with her prize, but unknown to me she had somehow remembered and marked the double I'd dropped prior to this bird; so I watched in amazement as she retrieved both those birds and delivered all three to my hand (I have a pic of her holding those three birds somewhere). Lady did all sorts of amazing things on the dove field; I've watched her shake vines and bushes holding a wounded or dead bird until it fell to the point that she could get it in her mouth, I've sent her after wounded birds that were sailing 3'-4' above the ground for who knew how far and watched her leap and catch the bird in mid-air; and she always managed to find everyone's lost bird at the end of the day when the shoot was over. My shells to bird average was never higher than when I hunted with Lady; if a bird went down, Lady always managed to find it no matter how far away it may have sailed.
But she wasn't just a dove dog, she tracked down two deer my son shot with his bow and couldn't locate. She would not point quail, but she could smell and track quail; and she always managed to do so in a manner that would allow me to get in position before she flushed them. And on one occasion I took her rabbit hunting. My brother in law wanted to go and I knew his dogs were sorry as dirt. I figured if I had Lady along I'd
at least have some company while he was off chasing his crazy beagles, but Lady had never been exposed to rabbits or rabbit hunting prior to this trip. As the morning moved along, we jumped several rabbits, the dogs would run them 50' or so; and Lady would then investigate the commotion to see whatever it was these strange dogs were howling about; but I could also tell she was scenting the bunny. So while my BIL was off chasing his worthless dogs, I noted a promising briar patch and decided I'd have Lady investigate. I placed Lady at the upper end and told her to sit and stay; then walked down to the other end and said "Lady, hunt"! She had no idea what I wanted her to do; but she was always anxious to please me so she immediately lunged
into those briars to see whatever it was that had me so excited. About 20' into the thicket she bounded a rabbit that came balling out my end; I rolled that bunny with my old G Grade Lefever and said "Lady, back"! Lady picked up the bunny like she'd been retrieving rabbits all her life and placed it in my hand; the only bunny bagged the entire day. We had a long driveway at the house and being lazy, I got weary of walking down to the street; so one morning Lady greeted me as usual and for whatever reason, I pointed to the street and said "Lady, back"! Lady didn't have a clue what I wanted her to do, but knew I wanted something; so wondered down the driveway, made a few circles and spotted the rolled up paper. She then picked up that paper (a big Sunday edition) and brought it to hand; I praised her mightily and from that day onwards, she delivered the news. I learned from my sons, who were teenagers when Lady was in her prime, that Lady was a "girl magnet"; seems the girls were always impressed when they demonstrated Lady's "tricks". I could go on and on, but bottom line Lady was the best dog I've ever been privileged to own, or will own; and she'll never be replaced. Lady never learned to speak obviously, but somehow she just seemed to understand; the things she could do were amazing, especially given that I had "trained" her; why I'd never
even attempted to train a dog in my life before Lady came along.
Our last dove hunt took place in another pasture in early January after a freezing rain; a few late season doves were using the portion of the pasture where horses were being fed hay. Lady was now 14 years and 3 months old; was deaf, and no longer had the ability to get into the truck without being lifted. I took with me that day the John Linneman Optimus Lefever I'd just gotten back from Buck Hamlin (later featured in the DGJ); I'd never fired the gun before that day and didn't know what to expect, but I wanted to take the opportunity to be in the field with Lady; as I knew her days were numbered. With the pasture completely bare and no place to make a blind; we huddled by a corner fence post with Lady at my right side as always. I shot that old Lefever 21 times that day and together we bagged 9 doves, Lady placing each precious bird in my left hand as she had done hundreds of times over the years; what a memorable day! Three months later, Lady became very sick; I immediately took her to the vet who told me that, given her age, there was nothing I or he could do except humanely end her suffering. Reluctantly I agreed, but asked that he give me some time with her privately before moving forward. Placing Lady's head in my lap, I stroked her fur and talked to her; the whole time absolutely sickened by the thought that I was being forced to give her up for no other reason than that she was old and at the end of her allotted days. I held her as the shot was administered, I felt her body relax; I listened as she exhaled for the final time. And then, in front of God and everybody I
cried uncontrollably like a broken-hearted child. When finally composed to the point I could drive, I took Lady home and buried her on the bank of Collier's Creek; that seemed appropriate as Lady always seemed to enjoy splashing in that creek as much as she loved retrieving doves. Every man who loves the outdoors should be blessed with at least one exceptional canine partner during his lifetime; and for me that blessing was the "runt of the litter", a gentle sweet natured black fuzzy ball of energy named Lady. (Sorry, I obviously got carried away)

What a great story Tom. I had to have my last English setter Max put down Dec. 23, 2014 because of cancer. I, like you held his head in my hands as he went to his final sleep. The vet had known him since he was 9 weeks old and now almost nine years later. He was a great companion that I miss greatly.

One of the best things about a duck or bird hunting camp is sitting around the fire and telling all the tales of dogs gone bye. I've had a number of great dogs over the years and have a ton of stories like these but will save them until your sitting across the fire from me. My friends say I should write a book so a thread like this is just too short.

Topgun, you didn't get carried away. That was a great read about a great dog. Thank you.

Wonderful story about Lady Tom. Thanks for taking the time to tell it. When Jim, the OP told us how his dog Mandy remembered a dove that was shot and unable to be retrieved until they returned a week later, it would be easy to write that off as simply the dog smelling the very ripe dove. But having seen some of the things I have seen with dogs over the years, I have no doubt that they have memories and the ability to think and reason, and that Mandy had not forgotten that bird.

Like people, some are obviously better and smarter than others. Some are very clever but not as willing to perform or please as others. That can be especially frustrating when you know how smart they are, and they refuse to perform for a friend or visitor. Yet they do exactly what you asked them to do right after your visitor leaves. I think some of them eventually shut down after a while when we are not smart enough to understand what they are trying to tell us. The memories of dogs is the stuff of stories and legends. Argos, Ulysses' (or Odysseus') hunting dog was the only one who remembered him after he returned home in disguise after 20 years in battle. I guess ancient Greek dogs lived longer. I named one hunting dog Argos, but he got away from my wife while still a pup and was killed by a car, so I never got to see if he could live up to his name. He sure had the potential and took to training unbelievably quickly. When you get one like your Lady, it becomes impossible to ever think of them as dumb animals again.

Just think... after 70 years, Ed Good isn't even housebroken. Sorry, I couldn't resist.

Great story, Tom. Thanks for writing it for us. I got a new black lab pup three weeks ago today. Her name is Cady. Her father belonged to a close friend and duck hunting buddy of mine. He gave me Cady, pick of the litter, after he bred his dog to a local female. The owner of Cady's mother called me about half hour ago to check on her, and to tell me that her father, Rev, had been hit by a car and killed. I texted my buddy with my condolences just now, and urged him to get one of Cady's littermates while he still can. It's so fresh for him, and he is grieving, but I really hope he gets one of the pups, 'cause there won't be anymore. We'll talk soon, when he feels like it.

Thanks for starting this thread, Jim. It's a good way to remember Mandy, she was a fine dog. Glad I got to know her at Tunica (and you too ).

SRH.

I have had a Setter and a couple of French Brittanys that will block a running bird.

It starts out with them ground trailing a pheasant or bob down a game path through the grass and brush. I can't see the bird, but I recognize what is happening by watching the dog. The bird and dog are running faster than I can walk. Suddenly the dog will veer off to the right 100 yards, turn left for 100 yards, and then turn left again and set up in the trail, facing me, with the wind blowing from his tail to his nose. I continue up the trail and then the bird flushes, usually withing 20 yards of the blocking dog.

How did that dog know how to do that?

Because it used to be a wolf!...Geo

I had a dog that I swore could spell.........wonder if he used to be a school teacher? ;-)

Way back when Georgia had plenty of birds I had three female pointers.They were good blooded dogs but far from being registered.Some of them were great.Lady would come back and get me if she found a covey and I could not locate her.Try training a dog to do that.Bess was the best retriever and I never lost a bird. Bobby

Back before my drahthaar had been taught any manners I had him out on some planted chukars. We flushed a bird that flew towards some buildings and offered no shot. The bird flew right into an open barn, with my boy Kaiser in tow. There was about a minute of cartoon crashing sounds until a beautiful cock pheasant ran out of the barn, with Kaiser tight on his heels. One of the guys thought it was impressive that he somehow chased in a chukar and chased out a pheasant.
When I called Kaiser back he returned with the chukar in his mouth. He had caught it and then chased the pheasant.

So many stories of "trust your dog" with him too. We would be beating the brush where we absolutely knew we marked down a cripple while he would be on point waiting for us 75 yards away.

I chased a winged pheasant through high grass until I couldn't see it anymore while Kaiser worked the scent, only for him to work his way to me and dig the bird practically out from under my boot.

CHAZ



CHAZ

Jake, my Lab was a true "Sportsdog". We were at a pheasant preserve and he scented a bird, bore in on it and when the bird didn't fly, he boosted it into the air with his muzzle.

I was hunting along a slough a few days after the start of duck season. My Brit Rip was casting about and disappeared into the brush. A lot of splashing and quacking ensued. He reappeared with a Mallard in his mouth. The same scene was repeated two more times....splashing...quacking....another duck! I had three ducks and had not fired a shot.Similar thing happened during Dove season bringing me birds I had not shot!! Sure improved my average!!! The best retriever I ever owned!

Black lab Dixie would sneak into other hunter's blinds on a dove field and steal doves for me. I appreciated that...Geo

This is more of an Incredible Dumb Hunter With Dog Feat. My older Brittany Abby locked down on her first Woodcock when she was about a year old in her first season. I could see the bird at the end of her nose. Perfect flush, perfect two misses and it flew off. About a 100 yards away, nothing but leaves on the ground, she went on point in a wide open spot. "There's not a bird there". I went over to get her with gun open on my shoulder and the second bird pointed in her woodcockin' career got up clean without a shot.
Trust your dog.

Hobbes is a miniature wirehair dachshund and being named after a cat (tiger rather) he has had more than 9 lives. An outstanding hunting dog who grew up with me training field trial labs and thinks he is a lab. Amazing water entry.

Between 2001 and 2005 I guided ducks and geese for an outfitter. I would dress in civies, put Hobbes on a leash then go to the airport to pick up the hunters. Time and time again I got ribbed about Hobbes being my retriever. It was a 2.5 hour ride back to camp and I always had a case or 2 of beer bet on Hobbes' retriever ability. No matter water or land he knew where the bird had landed and would bring it back if it was a duck. If it was a goose he would sit on it till I went and got it from him. If it was an alive goose he thought he had to kill it and feathers flew.

One year at the airport a returning hunter from the previous year approached me with a dog bone and a candle on it. Perplexed I asked him what it was for. He said, "Its Hobbes birthday today, isn't it?" He then went on to tell me Hobbes had become a local legend in his Arkansas bird camp.

Hobbes is still with me today at 11 years. In that time I have pulled him off of a skunk he was determined to kill, pulled quills out of his mouth and tongue, grabbed him just before he was to be sucked in the the roll at a weir and then I fell in and had a bit of a fight to save my own skin, he hates cats and so many cat fights later, a truck ran over his hind end and now he has plates in both hind legs, a shaky pelvis and with the tissue damage doesn't do his business so well.

He still hunts and now I take him pheasant hunting at my club. Many invited hunters with their flushers and pointers think he is a joke and are annoyed by his presence and ask for him to be put up before the hunt begins. In tight cover and crusty snow where his weight will hold him but the big dogs break through, he will flush as many as the big dogs. He is slower, methodical and has a great nose. After the hunt he is usually the centre of conversation.

This year we go back to a guiding camp for 7 weeks. I can't wait for the beer to flow!

Stan, congratulations on your new Black Lab pup. I have not gotten another dog; I am still grieving over the loss of Mandy.

Bet that act made you and your pal a real popular dude!!

Not so much as you'd think!...Geo

I love this thread! It's a happy maker.....

When I brought Emily, my first Brittany home, she had just been weened. I took her around to the back yard to meet her new pal Zak. I put her down on the ground and Zak walked over and they touched noses and Zak wagged his tail and did an about face and walked away.

Remember, Emily had just been weened and as Zak walked away she spotted something swinging that to her looked like a food source. Emily launched herself and in a heartbeat her needle sharp teeth were locked on to Zak's unmentionables.

Zak made an immediate turn and continued turning at a fast rate with little Emily hanging on for dear life. Inertia had her body extended and her ears were flattened ala Snoopy. On about the 4th revolution she was thrown clear and tumbled on to the grass.

Thereafter, Zak, was always careful to ensure that Emily was never behind him. They later became buddies and complemented each others hunting styles.

I brought Bella, a Ryman type Setter, home in September, 7 years ago. She stayed in the house throughout our grouse season until February the following year. She was 7 months old and never exposed to a bird of any type. I took her for a walk on a warm but snowy February afternoon. We crossed some grouse tracks, we both started to follow them. I saw the tracks lead into a dense blow down. I tried to call her over to hopefully have her first grouse contact, she wasn't there. I back tracked and found her on point about 20 yards uphill from the blow down. She had the grouse pinned against a tree trunk. I walked in and flushed it. The tracks went into the blow down then out the other side, up around to the tree. The natural ability of some dogs are amazing.
terc

"I brought Bella, a Ryman type Setter"

DeCoverly dog?
CHAZ

I was hunting grouse one day in a favorite cover and my DD Heiko had pinned a nice bird ,it came up close ,I shot quickly and tumbled the bird ...it landed in a small river ,although I could not see exactly through the brush I did see water fly and heard the splash ,I sent Heiko in immediately fearing the bird would float downstream and be lost ,when I got to the point where I thought it had dropped he was working a single spot about six feet up the the bank ,I sent him down the river figuring every second was crucial and I was going to loose my prize ! no sir he would put in a half assed effort and return to the damn river bank ...I kept sending him off ,more frustrated each time ...I mean there was nothing on the bank and he kept going to the same spot over and over ,idiot dog I thought .

This came to the point where I was about to loose my cool ,so I said to myself to hell with it and let him be ....he sniffed to his spot on the bank again ,he started frantically digging and after excavating a sizable hole he stuck his head in up to his shoulders to pull out a very much alive wingtipped grouse !!!!

I didn't see the hollow log buried in the river bank,but when that grouse pitched in the water he sure did ,and Heiko knew it too!

Had an old mixed breed once a cross between a greyhound and a lab. Boy was he quick. The first day I brought him home I thought I would throw out a retrieving dummy into the pool to see if he would retrieve it. Well he was so fast he actually ran across the surface of the water, retrieved the dummy and barely got his toe nails wet.
I couldn't wait to taking him duck hunting with my hunting partner. First morning out we set out our spread of decoys, within minutes a pair of mallards came in and we dropped both of them. Ole Shep ran out on top of the lake grabbed both ducks and brought them directly to the blind.
I looked at Dave my partner and he never said a thing. All morning Shep repeated his performance and never got more than the bottom of his paws wet, yet Dave sat quietly.
We limited out, loaded our gear and headed for home. I sat silently in the truck for 5 minutes before I finally spoke up.
Well what do you think??? Dave looked over at old Shep and said... Don't be to hard on him he will learn to swim.

Sorry guys I couldn't help myself. I do have a pointer that refused to retrieve birds for the first year while I trained her. Hard as I tried she just refused to pick up a dead bird. One morning while training she pointed a bird, I flushed it and shot at the bird and only dropped a leg. Bell watched the bird as it flew out of sight about a hundred yards. I released her and off she went. I told my partner, little good that's going to do she refuses to retrieve. We stood there yacking for a bit when I spotted Bell coming over a rise. As she got closer I realized she had the bird in her mouth and it was still alive. She brought it directly to me and I took it from her. From the moment forward she retrieves birds like she was force broke, and is one of the best retriving dog I have owned. Dogs are a lot smarter than the owner sometimes. We just need to figure out how to communicate what we are asking them to do.

Hoof, Bella came from Bierls Setters. They call their dogs " Ryman Type". She is a mixture of Pinecoble, DeCoverly, Hemlock, Wyss, and a few others.
terc

Some great stories here. I picked up a dog from the pound in 2005, friendly, playful critter. Lab face, covered in curly hair, black all over, with a white spot on the chest. Called her Yo. She was an awesome retriever on with tennis balls, not afraid of any type of cover, the tougher it was, the better she liked it. Took hand signals pretty well, listened great.
So, I thought I'd take her grouse hunting one day. She caught on to it the first day, she always sat or stood there looking at them, when she found a bird. I walked right by her on the first one, wondering what she was doing, turned around, looked at her, told her to come (about 25yds), she didn't budge. I walked back , she got up and pushed the bird, which I did not know or think was there. As far as I knew, she'd never seen one before.
Tried here on some farmed pheasants, she'd either sit or stand there, not really pointing, but, she would not budge. Took her to a pheasant festival shoot later that year, she sat on a bird. She got up when we got there, bird flew. She was sitting her butt right on top of it.
She'd spot birds in trees, turn on a scent at 50 yds or more, and never sight hunted. Watched her follow a running pheasant for about 100yds, bird in short 6" stubble 20 yds in front, she just didn't see it, but, it was plain as day. But, she would not retrieve a bird, she'd show you where it was, then on to the next one.
Got a big lab the next year, he was a retriever, very well trained, maybe a bit over trained as far as walking at heel goes. That was where he hunted from, if he went ahead, he had something, all I did was walk across the wind with him.
Those two as a pair were hilarious, she was out front, lock up on a bird, he was at heel, he'd flush, I'd shoot, he would retrieve.
One day I was walking a canal, came up on the road, standing on the bridge. Couldn't see her, all of a sudden, she came up from under the bridge, with a duck in her mouth, wounded one, her first feathered retrieve in 4-5 yrs of having her. The last time I had her out, with a new pup, 2 yrs ago, she went out and water retrieved a duck alongside the pup, there were two out there. I was thinking , nah, she'll swim around it and come back like normal, without it. Damn, she grabbed it, brought it right to hand. I was shocked. Training dummy, she'd retrieve it...bird, not a chance, she got me those two times.
Then she taught the pup about working cover that day, tough cover, really tough krap, didn't know she still had that left in her. She worked a really nasty patch for 45min, and got birds out of it for the pup. Took him 15min of watching to catch on to what she was doing in there, then he was in there like a dirty shirt, following her.
For a pound hound, of an unknown mixture, she was something special, absolute murder on ground birds, she loved hunting. And she taught the pup. She'd always let his predecessor retrieve, even on doubles. I'd buy 10 birds at the farm, she'd find 12 or 15, every time. She never picked up a pheasant, hun or sharpie, she let the Big Dog do the retrieving. I often wonder if she knew that was her last trip, and decided to show me that she knew exactly what she was doing, the whole time.

I was never really a bird dog owner until 1998 when a French Brittany named Mandy came to be a part of our lives. Prior to Mandy I had always just boot hunted for birds without a dog. I had always wanted one and not too long before we got Mandy had made a commitment to buy an American Water Spaniel. I was excited about that but just a week or two prior to their weaning I did battle with a table saw and lost. Ended up loosing a portion of my left middle finger. With only marginal insurance and seasonal work at the time, I was forced to bow out of the AWS purchase.

The following winter I got a call from a friend who had two French Brittanies from the same litter. He had started out with Jasper, Mandy's brother and was doing great things with him. My friend is a bird hunting fanatic and really knows how to train a dog.

Mandy came to him when the kennel that sold Mandy to her original owner, found that owner to be abusive and cruel and the kennel owner gave them the option getting their money back or being reported for animal cruelty. Mandy was under weight, malnourished and would cower any time you reached out to her. She had also been spayed. When the kennel owners realized that they offered her to my friend.

He took her in and got her fed up and past all the cowering and started working her in the field. She was every bit as good as her brother and he was an amazing dog. She had one serious flaw though. She did not like toddlers. We didn't have kids at home and no real prospects of grandkids so he offered her to me. They had a toddler and an infant and while she was an awesome hunter, they didn't want to risk any issues with the kids.

Mandy really taught me to bird hunt. Numerous times she'd retrieve a quail only to stop and lock up on point on another one with the quail still in her mouth. She was a pretty small Brit but fearless and had a lion's heart. She took off down a steep mountain side to retrieve a chukar that glided rather than dropping and ended up 400 yards down the hill. She made the retrieve despite my trying to call her off. I made sure she got a good rest after that retrieve and made sure I was more careful on my shot choices.

She retrieved a head shot pheasant one time that threatened to beat her brains out. She grabbed this bird by the breast and as head shot bird do, it flapped its wings furiously about her head. It never phased her.

On a field hunt for geese, one large gander went down. What I didn't know was he was only stunned. As Mandy approached he came to with a busted wing and a bad attitude. They circled one another like a pair of boxers. The gander struck like a snake and Mandy ducked the blow and dove in like a mongoose and for a few seconds it looked like a miniature tornado of fur, feathers and dust. The tornado subsided and out of the lingering dust came my little champion dragging a gander that, while it didn't outweigh her, definitely matched or exceeded her for size.

I could go on for hours about Mandy but those were some of the highlights. I miss her greatly.

Much like topgun with his wonderful Lady, I sobbed uncontrollably when the day came to let Mandy go. My wife and I always said we didn't know we had a Mandy sized hole in our heart until she came to us. We sure knew it when she was gone.

Very nice story Marty. Thanks for sharing.

When it came to birds, Emily was a very aggressive Brittany. We were hunting pheasant on the ranch and Emily went on point. I flushed the bird and it flew off towards the river. I shot and the bird dropped into the river and I told Emily to fetch.
She leaped off of the bank that was 15' above the water as well as any Lab and a few minutes later appeared downstream with the bird in her mouth.

One time while hunting Huns,Emily went on point and I walked in and flushed a covey, shooting two. Emily was still on point and I beat the ground in front of her to no avail. Thinking that there were no more, I tapped Emily on the head to relocate her. Instead of relocating her response was a more intensified point. She was right and I finally flushed and shot single bird. Emily always told the truth.

Mandy pulled a similar one with me. Moving across some grass that had been pastured with cattle she locked up hard on point. Wouldn't budge. I looked around. I told her, "come on girl there's nothing there." The grass was too short to hide a mouse let alone a hun. I stepped past her in an effort to convince her there was nothing there when the ground exploded with huns. I am ashamed to say I muffed both shots. I never doubted her after that.

When Emily was about 4 months old some friends and I were going duck hunting. We were loading our gear and my Lab was already in my truck, when one of the guys said "look".

Emily was on the front porch in a corner where the house connected to a wrought iron railing. She was facing away from us, slumped over, the picture of rejection.
"Ah let her go", said one of my softie duck hunters and Emily went on her first duck hunt.

She had been introduced to the gun and retrieving and after the first couple of ducks were shot her gaze was focused into the sky.

I decided to let her fetch the next duck and when it hit the water, I tapped her head and said, "Emily fetch".

Emily leaped from the canoe and swam out to the duck. The duck was to big for her mouth so she grabbed a wing and drug the bird to the canoe.
I lifter her into the boat and she held onto the wing.

It was a cold morning and Emily began to shiver. One of the guys took his coat off and wrapped it around little Emily to keep her warm.
She made two more retrieves and she was a confirmed duck hunter from that day on.

wyobirds,

That is a heart warming story. If you're not a hunter, it's hard to imagine how much they love what they do and how they live for those days in the field or the blind. It broke my heart when Mandy got to where she couldn't hunt anymore.

Marty

Thank you Marty. People who have not had a personal relationship with a dog are missing one of life's greatest experiences.
Annie is a hunting dog and a house/family dog. I have a room where my guns, ammo, reloading equipment, fly tying tools/material, hunting/fishing clothes and fly rods are kept. In that same room, Annie has a dog bed. It's her favorite room and if I leave anything out to where she has access, she brings it to me with her stubby tail buzzing.
She also brings me dead critters and critter parts. She puts me to bed every night and greets me every morning.

Marty,Wyobirds wonderful accounts of your Britts. The photo above shows 31 lbs. of doze and affection. Very touching about Mandy. They do break our hearts when they leave us behind to deal with this mortal coil without them beside us. Gil

I have enjoyed this thread immensely, I do think I would be a bird hunter if I did not have dogs. Here is a picture of Maggie in Montana with a limit of roosters my father and I took over her. She was something special. My dog trainer summed her up well to me one day while we were walking back to the truck. He said "she is what I like to call an independent thinker. She has every card a dog could have drawn in regards to skill but would be a handful for any professional trainer". That dog was full tilt from the second she hit the ground until we returned to the motel. Some of the more memorable moments were her treeing a Canadian Lynx while grouse hunting. Many retrieves that were mind blowing including one where I pulled her off the trail to show her where the bird was and after patiently indulging me she gave me that look that said "just wait here and I'll take care of things". She disappeared for about 45 minutes and right before dark as my anxiety level was sky rocketing she appeared on the horizon with my bird. One morning in Kansas after about 8" of fresh snow she caught at least 4 hen Pheasants burrowed under the snow. She did not really appreciate me releasing them after all her hard work. I learned over time to never doubt her. I heard it said that Springers do not hunt the wind but work foot scent. Well nobody told her that and she was quite effective at taking large loops and picking up body scent, especially when we had a wounded bird down. I miss her greatly but currently have her Grand Daughter who is also a great dog.

Here's Belle on point with a bird in her mouth. We got both birds. Oddly, on the same hunt my male, Max, also pointed a second bird with a bird in his mouth. In 30 years of hunting with my own dogs, those were the only two times this has happened. Sadly, both dogs are gone,now.

Daryl, it is totally amazing that dogs can have a bird in their mouth and point another. Whether it is a different type of scent, don't know but what a treat to see that.

Puppies: Willa on the left. Now 15 months old. Her first season was last year. She learned a lot and is a sweet natured dog.

Abby and woodcock two seasons ago. One tired pooch. She’ll be five in January and does all I ask her to do other than pay the bills. Limited in use by the lack of opposable thumbs.

Abby on a cold January morning retrieving doves.

This story is not about any of my dogs.

I was hunting quail along the Republican river near Arapahoe, NE. I was staying at a very run down motel/chicken coop type motor lodge.
In the center of the turn around parking lot was a nasty, abandoned, built-in, gunite type swimming pool. Obviously not used in some time, and left with no cover.
I was drinking a beer, and there were a couple young lads drinking a beer, and sitting at a picnic table out by the black lagoon. I moseyed on up to share a little conversation.
We talked about our hunting, and I asked about the little Chessie pup that was laying in the dust beneath our feet.
The dog was 8 mos old, and this was it's first western trip. He was a little rough yet, his owner said.
When we reached the bottom of our communal coolers, the matter of being out of beer was raised. The Chessie owner asked me if I had ever seen a dog swim, and retrieve from deep under water. I said "No, never from anything more than about 2 feet or so on a diving duck". So, he then set the hook.
He said, " I'll bet you the next 12pk my little dog here can retrieve a 3lb brick from the bottom of the pool across the fence there." I said, "You're on."
He proceeded to pull a painted paving brick out of the motel owners little decorative border of brick that lined her flower beds, and walked his dog at heel over to the pool yard. He rubbed the brick on his sleeve to get the dirt off, and then threw it into the deep end of that nasty pool.
I'll be a son of a gun, but that dog ran to the side of the pool, and dove right in. In the dark!
He stayed submerged for maybe 20 seconds, but he came up with that brick in his mouth, though he couldn't climb out of the pool without help.
I was happy to go get more beer. Just to have seen that.

Mandy would always sulk for a while when I released a hen she caught. Of course after the next bird she pointed she'd be over it.

Love the picture of the shotgun in the lap and Brit between the knees. Looks like like intense concentration on the game at hand.

JDW, yes it is hard to understand. On another hunt, a companion's viszla [sp??] pointed a pheasant in some thigh high grass. It flushed and retrieved the bird, then refused to leave the same spot. Finally, a bobwhite flushed and we missed. Same thing , again the dog pointed at our feet. Another quail, which we got. Yes, a third quail point, which we got, too. All this activity was within a 10 foot radius.

Before Annie goes hunting I double vest her, one vest protects her chest and the other her back.

She is fearless when going through Russian Olive thickets and blowing through barbed wife fences. Prior to double vesting her she has been to the vets to get sewn up way to often. This is Annie double vested and ready to go.



Last winter a hunting buddies wife bought a winter vest for their Springer and when she discovered that the vest was to small, she gave it to us for Annie.

Annie accepts wearing vests and my wife put her new winter vest on Annie and went for a walk in the snow.

The next morning as I was putting on a winter coat getting ready to feed our stock, Annie put a paw on my leg and nosed her winter coat.

All last winter and before going outside, Annie made sure that she was decked out in her new winter coat.

Thank you to everyone who posted their amazing stories about their hunting dogs. Now that my Lab, Mandy, is gone I am starting over with another female black Lab pup. Her name is Mazie taken from her AKC name "Ornbaun's Amazing girl". She is 5 months old and loves retrieving. Throw a shakled pigeon and she's on it in a flash and brings it back just as fast. She is not "soft" and can take training corrections in stride. I think she will be an outstanding hunting dog.

Bet you folks can't clean those sissy French Brits' ears as easily as I can clean my American Britt Willa's ears. Her head pops off for rinsing in the sink and easily snaps back on.

With a left hand which easily blocks an entire Brittany Spanial from view, it is easy to see why you failed so miserably in your first professional attempt to become a gynecologist...Geo

Geo, Just because you'd Drathaar not try to snap off Willie's head doesn't give you the right to dredge up my past. Gil

The kennel that I got Annie from handles puppies from birth, paying special attention to the ears, mouth and feet. As a result of the breeder's efforts, I can brush Annie's teeth, clean her ears and rub her feet between the toes and she is quiet and relaxed.