Huntin’ dhem vild chicken rooster birds

Vell Ron I know you most like to choot dem little doodle birds, but I tink you vould maybe vant to hear about vhat happened dhis morning vhen Yohn and me Ole vent to hunt dhem birds dhat ve mostly like to choot, vhich is the big vild chicken rooster birds. It all come out okay, mostly, so you don’t have to vorry none about us or the dogs, vhich as you know is Abbey and Bella.

Yohn and Bella and Abbey vith dhose six vild rooster birds we got ourselves.

So here it goes, vhich some of it you may not believe but ve don’t care if you do or not because ve vas both dere and know it’s the truth and factual. Here it come Friday and ve both could go hunt rooster birds and for vintertime dhis day vas not too very bad, maybe 25 degrees and no snow or rain or eny ting, but the east vind vas blowin’ cold like the devil’s breath vhich made your eyes vater and your nose run out snot.

First ve go to dhis farm down east a vays of town and it was all the fields in little bluestem and svitch grass and also Indian grass higher den mine head is and so tick you couldn’t hardly walk trough it. Except for a food plot vhich vas maybe one acre corn and about six or seven vild chicken hens flew out but no roosters.

Dhen ve drive both of us to a farm near Ridgeway, the same place vhere ve last year choot ourselves six roosters in maybe two hours so ve tought it was maybe good. But don’t cha know, all dhat native grass dhere, dhey mowed it for to bale hay and dhey took dhemselves a bulldozer and pushed up mostly all the brush in dhem gullies and grassy vatervays, into piles vhich is no good for vild chickens and nothin’ else except maybe rabbits. So Yohn, he valked dhat little bit of native grass dhat vas left around the edges and he choot a vild rooster, but me and Abbey ve don’t find nothin’ but hens and vhat good is that I ask you?

Ve get back to the trucks and I drink myself some coffee and Yohn he says, “Do you vant to try one more place?” and I say, “I don’t tink so because my legs is tired and also some achey!” and he says, “Vell, dhere vas this place last veek vhere I saw maybe fifty roosters!” so I say, “Okay, but dhat vill be my last hunt today!”

So off we go to this farm vhere some CRP ground still is, and Yohn says, “You Ole hunt in from the east and I vill hunt in from the vest and ve will see if maybe dhose fifty roosters still is here if ve are lucky.” Abbey and me drive to the northeast corner and ve start to hunt along beside dhis cornfield in some brome grass and Abbey she goes on point and dhis rooster gets up but not close and I choot it and down it comes cause its ving is broke and I tink, “Dhis von’t be some easy-to-find rooster” and it vasn’t.

Me and Abbey, but mostly Abbey, hunt all over for dhis broke-ving rooster and she is on its scent and tracking good and goes on point and I tell her, “Pick it up!” and she yumps on it and it flops and flips and beats its vings and squawks and she yumps on it again and dhen, By Yimminy!, up into the sky flies a all different rooster dhen the broke-ving rooster!

Now I don’t know what to do because Abbey has in her mouth grabbed the broke-ving rooster but dhere is flying in the sky an easy-to-choot rooster and so probably you know vhat I did, don’t you? I choot it! Dhen Abbey drops the broke-ving rooster to chase after the other rooster, vhich is chot dead and don’t need no chasing. And off it runs, the broke-ving rooster.

So I put the chot-dead rooster in my game bag and off ve go to hunt for dhat broke-ving rooster again and dhere is vild chicken smell all over the place. Dhen I meet up with Yohn and he says he has done some good, too, and chot himself another couple roosters him. Ve make a loop trough the field and now ve are going vith the vind, vhich is not so very good for the dogs, and Abbey’s head snaps around and she locks herself on point and I stomp and kick the grass and nothing flies up into the sky and Abbey is staring down right in front of her own front feet so I know for sure dhis is the broke-ving rooster.

I reach my hand down to feel for it and grab it under the mashed down grass. Except it is not the broke-ving rooster! And dhis rooster it flies up into my own face and takes off vith the vind and I am so flusterated dhat I can’t hardly choot but I did choot anyway and the rooster he falls hard dead.

Dhen I see Yohn coming up the hill and he is yelling some ting I can’t hear and I yell, “Vhat did you say?” and he again yells, “Bella found your broke-ving bird!” vhich is pretty damn amazing tracking work because dhat rooster had been running vild-ass crazy for 30 minutes, maybe.

So dhat is how we choot six vild chicken roosters on dhis Friday. And here is a real picture dhat I took if you don’t believe it. Even if you don’t believe it ve don’t care because ve vas both dere and know it’s the truth and factual. And ve tink ve, Yohn and me Ole, vill hunt at dhat place again, maybe.

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About Jerry Johnson

Curmudgeon. Bird hunter and dog trainer; indifferent wing shot. Retired journalist and college public relations director. Novelist and short story writer. Freeholder: 50-acre farm with 130-year-old log house. Husband, father, grandfather. Retired teacher, coach, mentor. Vicious editor. Blogger.
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4 Responses to Huntin’ dhem vild chicken rooster birds

  1. You know that you’re like family to me, but I swear … you need to stop eavesdropping on my uncles. 😉

  2. Jerrold Johnson says:

    Yah, shur, yabetcha. Won’t do dat no more. ‘Cept when dhey been drinkin’ and get to talkin’ loud dhat way they do, doncha know.

  3. Duane says:

    A great day in the field and Lena would be so proud!

  4. Yah, ya betcha. ‘Ceptin she has to gut and clean dhem vild rooster birds, all six.

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