Category Archives: Pheasant hunting

The best laid plans of mice and men

What was planned as a training session to get Hera staunch on point became a comedy of errors. I drove out to Banin Farms with the plan to work her on pigeons with the help of the proprietor Edmund Hassett. The appointment was at 9:00 am on October 23rd. I arrived and found Edmund had pheasants, four of them, ready for our training session. I appreciate Edmund is under a great deal of stress. His wife Vera is recovering from a stroke she suffered four weeks ago, so I did not mention the misunderstanding and we got on with the training session.

I put Hera on the 30′ check cord I made for her training and off we went. The plan was to let Hera find the birds and when she locked up on point, Edmund would take hold of the check cord and hold her on point while I walked up and walked around the bird before flushing it. Unfortunately, things went off the rails from the get go. The first bird jumped up, flushing wildly, before Hera got near it. I shot it and it went down in a glide into a wooded area. As we made our way to track the downed pheasant we walked up where the second bird was planted only to find this bird had already hightailed it. Hera did a great job tracking and retrieving the first bird, a lively cripple.

Moving onto the third bird, it flushed as Hera stumbled over it. I shot it and Hera Maggie made the retrieve. We moved onto the fourth bird and again, she stumbled across it, flushing it before she locked up on point. It was shot and retrieved also.

I asked Edmund if I could try pigeons, as was my original plan, and he retrieved three pigeons for me. He could not help me with Hera’s training with the pigeons, but showed me how to plant them. I planted the pigeons and let Hera go after them on the check cord. Things went from bad to worse. I quickly found Hera does not recognize pigeons as game birds. She ran through the field where the birds were planted, eventually stumbling across them and treating them as she does other non-game species, such as mice and voles, as something to pick up. I rescued the pigeons (keeping Hera from devouring them), setting them free so they could return to the loft.

On the way home I took Hera to Lester’s Square in the Marlborough Forest for a quick sweep. She flash pointed a few old scents, but no birds were found. My hopes of starting her on the road to being staunch on point today were dashed, but the effort will continue.

To hit is history. To miss is mystery. — Shirley E. Woods, Jr.

In a lifetime of shooting with shotguns I can safely say I am a fair wing shot on the target range and a good wing shot in the field. I consistently hit a fair number of clays on the skeet range, stations 3-5 give me the most difficulty and I do not bother with station 8 as for me is is just shooting the air full of holes. In the field, with my hunting buddies, I usually limit out on Canada geese in gunning over land and water. In the uplands I do very well gunning for woodcock, though this has a great deal to do with having an exceptional gun dog to find and point the birds for me. This sets me up for the shot and as woodcock are consistent in towering when flushed, always heading for the open sky, I usually find the mark, though often with a quick follow up shot with my Winchester 20 gauge side-by-side double barrelled gun. The reality is you are not going to hit every target you shoot at, be it a clay bird on the skeet range or a game bird in the field. I have racked up a great number of spectacular misses, both on the skeet range and in the field, over the years as my hunting buddies can attest. Missing when you are shooting with a shotgun comes with the territory, but therein lies the fun that comes from shotgunning. If you hit every target you would quickly grow tired of the sport. Continue reading

Geoffrey’s shotguns.

I am by no means a poor man, but I work for a living. I have a good job and together with Mika our combined incomes allow us to live comfortably. As nice as it would be to have my clothes tailored on Savile Row, and my shotguns custom designed by Churchill, Cogswell & Harrison and Purdey, I rather contentedly buy my clothes off the rack at Mark’s Work Wearhouse and my shotguns from retailers such as Sail and LeBaron Outdoor Products. My first shotgun was a Savage single shot, 16 gauge, hammerless, with a 2 3/4 chamber, a 28 inch barrel and full choke. It belonged to my father. I have a fleeting memory of the day he purchased it at a gun shop in Baltimore, Maryland in 1965. I was four years old at the time. I remember him talking to the proprietor of the gun shop, then the proprietor wrapping the shotgun in brown paper. My dad paid $49.00 for the gun. My dad enjoyed gunning for cottontail rabbits in the 1960s. He used this gun masterfully on his rabbit hunts with my uncle John in the countryside outside Kingston, Ontario. When I turned 14, my dad offered me the gun and I happily accepted it. Continue reading

August 28, 2013

Hera is due at the veterinary clinic this afternoon to be given the bordetella vaccine by Dr. Douglas Hopwood. He is the veterinarian who treats her; he is also a friend and hunting buddy. She recovered last week from a bout of kennel cough. She likes to play rough and tumble with other dogs and somehow in her vaccinations bordetella was overlooked. Otherwise, she is the picture of health, almost eleven months old now; she will be turning a year old come the start of the woodcock season in October.

Her training is coming along nicely. She is by far the most confident of my dogs, there were three Brittanies before her: Christie, Maggie and Juno. While I can say I have her obedience, she responds to the whistle and follows my directions during her daily training runs, she has her moments, particularly when it is time to head home from playtime at the dog park on Lemieux Island. She disobeys when I order her to kennel up. She gets the message when I get in the car and drive away without her, saying to her “fine Hera, stay here all night!”

She is very much a predator, having made a meal of a hapless cottontail leveret on her training run last Monday afternoon. She discovered the mallards on the river also, very doggedly swimming after them, though they easily stayed out of reach, finally taking to wing to get away from her. I am really looking forward to taking to the field with her this season.

Posted by Geoffrey