Written by: Scott Hill. Tecumseh, MI
July 18th, 2001 was a very memorable day at the Hill house.
Our setter Jazz along with my wife and two daughters delivered nine beautiful pups. There was a handsome male with a large black eye patch and a freckled nose that caught my eye almost immediately. Eight weeks later that same pup would not be leaving with his sibs but instead “Henry” would become our next generation grouse and woodcock dog. After the usual puppy stuff and adolescent obedience training, it was time for bird introduction. By spring, Henry was eight months old. We set out a half dozen chukar over a 40-acre field marking each birds location with ribbon. We turned Henry loose with a long check cord and as they say “let the good times roll!” Henry’s first encounter was mostly curiosity, his second a point (with a little help). The third a point- flush-chase, then a point-flush-shot, then an unfortunate “bump” and finally a point-flush-shot and retrieve. We made a couple more trips that spring all the while Henry’s pointing instinct and confidence continued to build. As summer arrived, it brought Henry even more opportunities as he learned to swim and retrieve in the lakes and rivers of northern Michigan. We also made several walks in the coverts where in a few short months he would make his first journey in search of wild birds.
Finally opening day of the Michigan grouse season, September 15th, 2002. Out of respect, I hunted Henry’s mom Jazz first that opening morning.
The sky was high and blue and the weather warm. The ferns about waist-high. As Jazz did her “thing,” finding and pointing several grouse and woodcock. We managed to get a couple on the ground before it was Henry’s turn.
After a quick break and a couple retrieves with one of the freshly downed grouse it was Henry’s turn.
At 14 months, I knew this season with Henry should be more fun than anything; low expectations but really I was already hoping for more.
We headed south with a nice light crosswind along a 10 year old cut edge coursing between the young poplar and a more mature mix of deciduous and conifers. After 45 minutes we had not had a point or bird encounter so I decided to skirt the perimeter in a large loop and work back to the truck and possibly relocate to another spot.
About 150 yards from the truck I made my way to a trail as Henry’s bell went silent.
Facing into the wind, just ahead was my beautiful setter with a large black eye patch and freckled nose standing motionless. His head up, high tail level and not even the breeze moving his feathering.
I walked to him, by him and past him. Maybe 20 yards, when finally the grouse busted left down the trail and pitched hard left. By the time the butt of my stock hit my shoulder the grouse put a lot of green between him and I. Although I gave him an ounce of 7-1/2’s, mostly out of principle, maybe frustration. After the shot, Henry caught up to me looking for further instructions but I knew I had just blown the perfect grouse introduction opportunity. Maybe one more step and all the pieces would have fallen into place but it was not to be. I asked him to “hunt dead” and we circled the entire area as I chanted “dead bird” but to no avail. With a pat on his head and a scratch on his ear I said “let’s head home.” Another 50 yards down the trail and within eye sight of the truck, Henry seemed to lag behind camouflaged by the late summer ferns. As I called for him to catch up he approached very slowly, head down as if he had done something wrong. But to the contrary, as he stepped out from under the cover and onto the trail he had a big beautiful Michigan grouse in his mouth!
Life is good… No, it’s perfect.
S
