Category Archives: Bird Dogs

A brace of woodcock

A BRACE of game birds: plural, two wild birds of the same type that have been killed for sport or food; from the Middle English or Old French word brace (brah-say), meaning “arms” hence a pair; a sporting term that … Continue reading

Posted in Bird Dogs, Bird Guns, Bird hunting, Woodcock, woodcock hunting | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments

The whirr of homeward bound wings

Bobwhite quail are the most obliging of training birds… after being set free and scattered across the hayfield, they call one another back to the cage in the evening, climb in, settle for the night, and are ready to go … Continue reading

Posted in Bird Dogs, Bird hunting, Dog Training, Hunting, Shooting Sports, Wildlife | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Without tubes and wires

…the best ending would be a sudden heart stoppage when a trio of rooster pheasants or a covey of prairie grouse explodes at my feet as I step in front of my dog Abbey who is locked on point, frozen … Continue reading

Posted in Aging, Bird Dogs, Bird hunting, Friendship, Hunting Memories | Tagged , , , | 8 Comments

Snow bird

Abbey began to lecture me: “Wahrl-arn-wahrl-yawl!” which, translated from spaniel French to North Country English means “Pheasant season only lasts eleven weeks, you know, and every day spent in the Clubhouse is wasted, lost forever and cannot be regained.” Snow … Continue reading

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What has it got in its pocketses?

The thing I have never found in my pocketses is the much desired One Ring with the power and sorcery to take me into the realm of great and transformative adventures – or at least grant me enough simple magic … Continue reading

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Dog dreams

Dog dreams These cool nights of early autumn unwrap dream presents, untying the ribbons of my first deep and restful sleep since midsummer’s soggy wool blanket of hot and heavy air smothered the North Country and tucked in for a … Continue reading

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Back roads

Naiveté is the headwaters of all rivers of adventure. Back roads The Nelson Place. That is where I should go, I’d been told. I do not remember his first name; maybe Duane. But as promised on the directions hurriedly written … Continue reading

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