Punker Spaniels

Posted on May 21, 2014 by Jerry Johnson
Abbey 'eagerly' awaits the start of the spring grooming session in the workshop.

Abbey ‘eagerly’ awaits the start of the spring grooming session in the workshop.

My dog clipping is, admittedly, a bit uneven. Perhaps ragged. Okay – scruffy. When I plied my trimming skills on six generations of English springers, my younger daughter used to call the look “Punker Spaniel.”

Punker Spaniels

Each May and September, the spaniels are sheared. Their coats, which have become long and shaggy over the previous months, are magnets for every burdock and beggar’s tick on the farm, and the daily brushing and combing gets to be a nuisance for me and an irritation to them.

So I attach a one-inch spacer to the blades of the Wahl pet trimmer, order the dogs to jump onto the table in the workshop, and the fall (or spring) grooming sessions get under way.

To use the word “grooming” to describe my technique in dog hair clipping is probably too complimentary. With the same deft touch that I employ with a scrub brush to scour gummy cow manure or raccoon carrion from their coats, I mow with abandon while the dogs squirm and twist.

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Hiraeth

Posted on May 14, 2014 by Jerry Johnson

Sandhills 1 300Hiraeth (n.) (Pronunciation: heer-ath) – A Welsh word that has no direct English translation; implies a longing or homesickness tinged with grief or sadness over the lost or departed, a yearning or nostalgia for a place or a home to which you cannot return, which may in fact never have truly existed

     – Definition from The North Country Dictionary (unpublished)

 

 

Hiraeth

Of thirty-some hunts in the shortgrass prairie country – Nebraska, South Dakota, North Dakota – the best were the ten or twelve trips when we camped. The days spent walking over native grassland preserves of 100,000 acres in pursuit of sharp tail grouse, prairie chickens and Hungarian partridge were a bird hunter’s paradise, but my most cherished recollections of those adventures are memories of times in camp.

I miss hunting camp.  The logs burning slow in the fire ring, the meals cooked over a Coleman stove or open flames, the soft glow of autumn evenings, coyotes yelping out on the prairie, the magnificence of a night sky unpolluted by any trace of city lights, cool breezes rustling the last of the leaves on the cottonwood trees around the campsite, sleeping in tents, the too-warm sleeping bags, the snores of dogs and hunting companions, the breakfast coffee percolator bubbling at the fire’s edge.

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Zapping Pete

Posted on May 8, 2014 by Jerry Johnson

Pistol Pete '94Everybody loved Pete, but he was not what you would call a reliable teammate. Sometimes he would win games for you with amazingly brilliant performances, and sometimes he would lose games for you with amazingly stupid performances.

Zapping Pete

Pistol Pete was the most lovable and most frustrating bird dog of the dozen or more that I have trained and hunted over these past three decades.  An English springer spaniel, he was the progeny of an outstanding field trials dog and possessed immense talent, strength, stamina and drive.  But his potential was unfortunately hampered by his limited mental capacity.

We have all known a “Pete.” He may have played defensive tackle on your high school football team, a position that did not require great mental acumen.

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Badgering

Posted on May 5, 2014 by Jerry Johnson

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe last word in ignorance is the man who says of an animal or plant, “What good is it?” If the land mechanism as a whole is good, then every part is good, whether we understand it or not. If the biota, in the course of aeons, has built something we like but do not understand, then who but a fool would discard seemingly useless parts? To keep every cog and wheel is the first precaution of intelligent tinkering.”
          ― Aldo Leopold (1887-1948), ‘Round River: From the Journals of Aldo Leopold’

Badgering

The badger that lives on the edge of the big hayfield made it through this hard winter of 2013-14. Although I have not yet seen him in the flesh, I found evidence of his survival after the last traces of snow melted away: one of his excavations on the north edge of the field where he was burrowing for pocket gophers, a favorite entree.

Although the badger and I are not friends – far from it; he treats me like his most detested enemy whenever we meet – I was pleased to know that he is still living and apparently prospering in the rough woods and brush lands on the borders of the farm. He has chased me, growled at me and snapped at me with murderous intent, but the place would be something less without him, and I want him and his kindred to dwell here as long as I do.

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Bells and Whistles

Posted on May 1, 2014 by Jerry Johnson

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI like them all – pointers, setters, retrievers, spaniels – what have you. I’ve had good ones and bad of several kinds. Most of the bad ones were my fault and most of the good ones would have been good under any circumstances.

  – Gene Hill (1928-97), hunting and fishing writer

Bells and whistles

New puppies come with bells and whistles. Literally. When each new puppy comes into our home, I celebrate the event by buying a new training whistle and a new collar bell.

It seems ridiculous, I know, to place this bell-and-whistle set in the box with a newly weaned puppy that is barely larger than the bell, but it has become a tradition. What I’m doing, symbolically, is making a promise to the pup that I will raise and train it to become the best bird dog it has the potential to be. I’m also making a promise to myself that I will open my heart and go through bird-dog-and-bird-hunter cycle of joy and sorrow one more time.

The same whistle and bell do not always accompany the dog through its entire lifetime, but often they do. And a few sets of bells and whistles were buried with their owners over the years when Zeke and Suzy and Pete went on to their rewards in that bird hunting heaven the spiritual part of me wants to believe in. Urns of ashes are the resting places for the souls of more recent dogs, so their bells on tattered collars and their whistles on stained and frayed lanyards hang on the clubhouse wall.

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Crazy Old Coot

Posted on April 24, 2014 by Jerry Johnson
To become a Crazy Old Coot, you need bird hunting attire and gear that is "eccentric."

To become a Crazy Old Coot, you need bird hunting attire and gear that is “eccentric.”

Every one is as God made him, and often-times a good deal worse.
     – from “Don Quixote” by Miguel de Cervantes (1547-1616)

Crazy Old Coot

Life’s long parade of years and the trials and tribulations of fifty-plus seasons of bird hunting have shaped me. I have become a man of great dignity and character, the epitome of acquired wisdom, balanced temperament, sound judgment, keen perception, singular intellect, insightful reason, common sense, good humor, grace, generosity, compassion, patience, and of course an exceptional understanding of the nature of men and dogs.

At least that is how I like to see myself at this stage of life. Admittedly, there may be a few odd behaviors, peculiarities and quirks in the mix, but nothing that would overshadow the essential nobility of my person.

So I was appalled to learn that one of my long-time hunting companions has begun to describe me as eccentric. This annoyed me greatly at first, but on reflection I realized there may be a grain of truth in his observation, and the wise course would be to accept it.

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The 12 gauge .45-70 rifle

Posted on April 22, 2014 by Jerry Johnson

     Rifle: (noun) – a firearm, usually hand-held and fired from shoulder level, having a long spirally grooved barrel intended to make a single-projectile bullet spin in flight, thereby increasing its ballistic stability and accuracy over a long distance.
     Shotgun: (noun) – a firearm, usually hand-held and fired from shoulder level, having a long smooth bore barrel, that fires a charge of small bird shot, large buck shot, or a single slug at short range.
     Rifled deer barrel shotgun: (compound noun) – a rifle disguised as a shotgun to comply with the convoluted deer hunting regulations developed by state legislatures and regulatory agencies.
     – Definitions from North Country Dictionary of Essential Outdoor Vocabulary (Unpublished)

The 12 gauge .45-70 rifle

If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, swims like a duck, flies like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it’s a duck.

If it looks like a rifle, operates like a rifle, has sights like a rifle, shoots bullets like a rifle, and has the ballistic properties of a rifle, it’s a rifle. Unless the hunting regulations of the Department of Natural Resources say it is a shotgun.

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Rabbitat

Posted on April 16, 2014 by Jerry Johnson

rabbit01Bluebell had been saying that he knew the men hated us for raiding their crops and gardens, and Toadflax answered, “That wasn’t why they destroyed the warren. It was just because we were in their way. They killed us to suit themselves.” 
          ― Richard Adams,
              “Watership Down”

Rabbitat

The cottontail rabbits that live on our place have a cozy deal.

They have shelter in the woods, they raid the garden all summer and early autumn, they eat discarded greens from the compost pile after the hard freezes of late fall, and they nibble bark from young trees and feast under the bird feeders through the winter. Posh accommodations for rodents.

In exchange, they let our two bird dogs chase them around the perimeter of the yard three or four minutes each morning when they first get out of their kennel runs. Neither Sasha nor Abbey has ever caught a rabbit, but they take great joy in the pursuit. And for some reason, perhaps an anthropomorphic empathy created by reading “Watership Down,” we like having the rabbits here.

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The cellar is a scary place

Posted on April 2, 2014 by Jerry Johnson

Cover (600)You’re braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.
   – from “Winnie-the-Pooh” by A.A. Milne (1882-1956)

We are wise to encourage our children to read literature that teaches them this important truth. Life will not always be easy, the world will not always be kind, and children should learn they can overcome hardships through reliance on their own courage, strength, and wisdom.  

The cellar is a scary place

Cat and Rat explore the cellar of the Three-Story House; excerpt from the children’s novel ‘Scrawny Dog, Hungry Cat, and Fat Rat’

The cellar doors were just outside the kitchen entrance at the back of the house. They were big, heavy steel double doors, the kind that are usually found in castles and forts. Cat was unfastening the latch to the doors when Rat came running out of the kitchen and almost bumped into him.

“Watch it, Rat!” snapped Cat. “You want me to pinch myself?”

“No,” answered Rat, although he thought it might be just fine if Cat pinched himself.

“Well then, run more carefully.” Cat gave one cellar door a good pull, and it opened part way. “Get yourself under the door there, Rat, and give it a push,” Cat said. Rat didn’t like that idea, but he squeezed himself under the edge of the door and pushed while Cat pulled. The door opened farther, and Cat and Rat heard some skittering noises down in the cellar.

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The hunting marketplace

Posted on March 30, 2014 by Jerry Johnson

ND Grouse HuntOne does not hunt in order to kill; on the contrary, one kills in order to have hunted…  If one were to present the sportsman with the death of the animal as a gift he would refuse it. What he is after is having to win it…   through his own effort and skill…

   – from “Meditations on Hunting “ by Jose Ortega y Gasset (1883-1955)

The hunting marketplace

It would be better for all concerned if I would stop hanging around sporting good stores.

Loitering is all I’m doing, since I have reached that time of life when I am no longer acquiring clothing or equipment for hunting, fishing or camping. Although I would probably buy a box of .22 rimfire cartridges once in a while if the flaky ammo hoarders weren’t buying it all up in preparation for Armageddon or the invasion of the communist lemmings or whatever looming apocalyptic event fuels their paranoia.

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