|
 |
It’s that quiet, magic moment just before dawn. I’m sitting in my willow blind overlooking the decoy spread we’ve spent the last hour setting out. It’s still dark, but behind me the eastern sky is tinged with pink and I can hear the faint sounds of the speckle belly geese waking up on the lake just over a mile away.
 |
| Suzy, Cricket and Tish. |
My 20-month-old wire-haired griffon, Tish, is lying beside me. I reach down and touch her on the head and she looks up at me with that “are they coming?” look. I check the sunrise app on my iPhone; seven minutes to legal hunting time. Suddenly there is a swishing sound of wings and dark forms buzz the decoys. Ducks! Early as usual, but unexpected as I didn’t see any when I scouted the field yesterday.
I glance over at Josh in the next blind with his 12-month-old German shorthair, Cricket. Beyond him is my son, Shawn, and his 18-month-old yellow Lab, Suzy.
“Did you see them?”
“Yeah! How long ‘til shooting time?”
“About five minutes.”
It’s opening morning for waterfowl in the Peace country. There is a concentration of white-fronted geese on the lake with a few local Canadas mixed in. The wet spring and summer we have experienced promises good numbers of ducks and geese this fall, but the local birds haven’t started to stage up for migration yet. The pea field has been swathed for several days but wet weather has prevented the farmer from harvesting and he has welcomed us in to keep the geese from destroying his valuable crops.
“Just don’t drive on the swaths,” was his only request.
 |
| Josh and Cricket, Dave and Tish. |
The wake-up noise over at the lake increases. There were over a thousand specks in this field last night and a spattering of Canadas. We are anticipating a lot of action, but this is only one of several pea fields in the immediate area and they are all holding geese. They could choose to ignore us and go elsewhere.
We all know this setup is not a perfect recipe for success. We are one veteran goose hunter and two newbie’s with three dogs, all under two-years-old and we are on the first hunt of the season. None of us could bear to leave our canine friends at home. All three dogs are in the early stages of training and are confused but eager. This could turn into a three-ring circus. Oh well, bring it on!
I check my phone again. Shooting time is here. As I put the phone away, somebody says in a hushed excited voice, “Ducks! Straight out! Six o’clock!”
They are buzzing the field a couple hundred yards out and we break out the duck calls. The flock swings and passes just out of range. A comeback call and they turn back.
“Get ready!”
“Take em!”
War breaks out.
I get up as fast as my arthritic knees will lift me. I drop a mallard on the first shot, miss the second and make a nice long hit with the third. My new Browning Maxus is working just fine. Out of the corner of my eye, I see two more tumble from the sky. Tish and Suzy are already out in the decoys looking for birds and quickly Cricket joins them. The good news is that none of them is gun shy and each one finds a duck. There is no rivalry or aggression. The bad news is none of them will pick up their bird. We gather the ducks up and head for the blinds because we can hear the first flight of geese bearing down on us.
I call Tish into the blind, “Come. Lay.” She squirms her way into the blind and finds her spot, shivering with anticipation. I am happy that the obedience part of her training is working but obviously, I have some training to do in the retrieving department.
The way the wind is blowing the geese have to fly over us from behind, then turn and come into the decoys.
 |
| Shawn and Suzy. |
The first flock comes over us high. We hide our faces, freeze, and give out with our best calls. I’m using a speckle belly call and Shawn is using a Canada call. He sounds good, just like he learned from YouTube, but it’s to no avail as the flock continues on, headed for another pea field half a mile away.
Soon a flock of eight comes towards us from our right. They do a flyby well out of range and then swing back for a second look, wings cupped and slowly losing altitude. They are in range. I yell, “Take em!” Eight shots ring out and three specks hit the ground. One more is on a long glide path to the other side of the field.
“Watch where that bird goes down!”
Now would be a good time to have an experienced dog to send across the field to track it down.
Tish runs out to one of the downed geese and sticks her nose in the feathers but won’t pick it up, even with my encouragement.
“More ducks!” We all scramble back to the blinds, calling our dogs and jamming shells in our guns.
An hour later, we have seven geese and nine ducks on the ground and decide to call it a day. The field a half mile away is full.
Our young dogs are all showing promise and we agree that with a little more maturity and refocused training, they are certain to be true waterfowl champions. As for us humans, we decide we could use a few more decoys, some layout blinds and better shooting accuracy. I can’t believe how many empty casings we have to pick up.
Josh takes Cricket to look for the wounded goose, Shawn starts to gather up decoys and Tish and I head for the end of the field to get the truck. As I walk, I reflect on the joys of being afield with friends, both the human and canine variety. It’s been an opening day to remember.
Maybe we will hunt that other field tomorrow.
Epilogue: Two months and several hunts after this adventure, Suzy was tragically killed when run over by an anonymous driver on the rural road in front of Shawn’s house. Her loss has left an empty space in all our lives, especially Shawn’s. ■
For previous Reader Stories click here.
|
|
|
|
