Monday, June 28, 2010

Chapter Four The Real Thing

I kneel down and remove the clip off of Tova’s collar. Immediately she starts to track.

The grass in the field is not very high and I don’t know where these chukars are sitting. I am trying to guess where they may be so I can walk towards them and give her a little heads up.

She is running and circling as she detects bird scent. Some could be old tracks and others could be being carried with the breeze. About fifty-feet into the field she stops and points.

I don’t see any bird there and the grass is not very tall so I am skeptical that she has a bird.

I tell her there’s no bird there but she wouldn’t break point.

I heard you say to move, there’s no bird there. You can’t see it. Don’t make me move. You need to get it out, I’m doing my part.

Slowly and cautiously I approach the area right in front of her. I have to look straight down into the patch of grass. By God, there is a chukar looking straight up at me. It is nestled down so far I couldn’t get a glimpse of it until I looked straight down at it. She located her first bird.

She must have read my mind.

See, I showed you there is one there.

I stepped backwards a foot and kicked the pile of grass. Upwards flew the chukar and Tova got to see her first bird in flight. I let it get out a ways before I fired then she headed right for it.

The next thing surprised me, something I had not thought of. When the bird dropped she went over to it sniffed it and went off to look for another one. I called her back holding the bird in my hand. She returned and sniffed the bird and looked at me.

Yeah, I saw it, what do you want, I found it for you and you shot it, let’s go get another one. Should be more out here.

I placed the chukar in my hunting vest.

The second chukar wasn’t far from where I downed the first bird and it took off just as we were moving around the field. I fired at it but missed. By this time we are half way down the field heading towards the opening in the stone wall to go into the woods. Since the chukar went into the woods I was more interested in going after the roosters that Pam placed.

“Come on Tova, this way, girl. We’ve got some bigger surprises for you than chukars.”

Hey, there’s more space out here we need to check to see if we can find some more before we leave.

She keeps tracking until she sees me heading for the break in the stone wall then she comes running to be alongside of me.

One of Tova’s great attributes is she likes to stay close. She is never more than forty yards off from me. I have a bell on her collar just in case she decides to take off. You never know what a new dog will do when it can become totally distracted with the hunt. She also has a Tri-Tronics electronic collar on her in case she doesn’t respond. I don’t want her getting lost or possibly running across a road and getting hit by a car. The collar and transmitter has a range of a mile.

As we walk through the opening in the stone wall, I am wondering where Pam has placed the roosters.

We walk slowly for awhile without any indication from Tova that she has picked up a scent. As we come out of the tree line to a small meadow she makes a dash for a brush pile and freezes directly in front of it in a solid point.

After what I learned from the chukar she found I was never going to question her nose again.

Slowly, I move closer to her and suddenly the rooster comes up through the brush pile as if he was shot out of cannon. I nailed him about fifty yards away and he tumbled to the ground. She ran after him when he fell and sniffed around him as if she were checking to see if he was still alive. I tried to get her more interested in the dead bird but no dice.

I just praise her to make sure she realizes I am happy. “Good girl! Nice work! Let’s go find the others.”

This is a big bird. He’s a lot bigger than the other one.

I put him in my hunting vest along with the chukar.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Chapter Three Beginning Hunting Skills

As spring approached, we worked out in the yard four to five times a week re-enforcing her training and starting to teach her to fetch plastic training dummies, as well as a dead pheasant trainer. Training dogs to fetch and release takes a great deal of time and patience.

Hey you threw it to me; now it’s mine. In their mind if they have it; possession is nine tenths of the law, you have to work long and patient at getting them to realize they aren’t supposed to run away with it.

No matter what we did during the day; we always had family time with our dog. The rule for her being off the couch and bed didn’t last very long. When she wanted cuddling she would get up alongside of Linda and place her head on Linda’s lap. That was the message.

Keep it up mom that feels great. I can lie here a long time while you rub my back. See I can even turn so you do my belly.

When she wanted to rough house, she knew Linda wasn’t into it so she could coax me into playing on the floor with her. She was really funny, especially if I had a long day on the road and she wasn’t about to take excuses, she would put her teeth around two fingers of my hand and try to pull me off of the coach.

I haven’t seen you all day and now you’re going to lie on the couch. Not if I have anything to say. See it wasn’t that hard for you to get up.

Needless to say, I gave in to her. As one of our other dog friends said, “She had me well trained.”

Every weekend in May through July, Tova and I would go out into the fields two towns over. I would tie her to a tree and drag a dummy soaked with pheasant scent around and across the field. She didn’t like being left in that manner. When I released her she would follow the scent trails where I dragged the dummy through the grass. On the opposite end of the fields she would have her reward a dummy soaked smelling like a pheasant. She would walk around with it in her mouth so proud of her accomplishments I could see the hint of happiness in her eyes.

You thought you were going to get away with hiding this on me didn’t you. You can almost see in her eyes.

In July, I started using a .22 caliber blank gun to see how she reacted to gun shots. It never phased her one bit. I guess it goes back to the breeder telling me they would fire shotguns so the puppies could get used to the noise and not feel threatened by it. I’m not sure if that was the reason but she definitely wasn’t gun shy, thank God. It can really be a bitch for a hunter to have a dog who is gun shy.

Next, we try real pheasants at the preserve.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Chapter Two Meeting Doctor B


Inside of the veterinarian’s office all of the technicians and clerical staff are ogling over Tova. I am as proud as a peacock. Customers with other pets are straining to see her, trying hard not to upset their own animals.

We were placed in one of the examining rooms to wait for the doctor. Doctor Bloomfield is a great vet. He is also a hunter who owns two Chesapeake Bay Retrievers. So he’s cool with hunting dogs.

As I stroke her back and her head, “Easy girl, this is okay, nothing to be afraid of.”

You take me to so many different places. Why don’t we stay put sometime?

As the six-foot doctor with a large build enters the room he looks at Tova appearing amazed at what he sees. Then he places her on the table.

Why did this man put me on this cold table? It’s slippery and hard to stand up. Ouch, watch where you grab, dummy. I don’t really like this!

While checking her for any possible imperfections or aliments he says, “You’re going to show her, right. She is show quality.”

“No, I never planned to show her. I just want a good bird dog and a good companion.”

“Well, you should, she’d win a number of awards.”

“Doc, I’m not into that. It’s not my style.”

“You’ve got yourself a good dog here. Where the hell did you steal her?”

So I proceed to tell him how I found the breeder and he just snickers and says, “You paid a lot less than she’s worth. Damn, she’ll be good, I can tell looking at her. She’ll be at least seventy pounds you know. That’s bordering on the size of a small male.”

“Hey, one of the reasons, I decided to get a female was because the stats say they range from 48-60 pounds. She’s going to live in the house. My wife’s never experienced a large dog before and she already knows this is a high energy breed. I told her if she could live through the first two years we won’t get divorced.”

“What can I tell you. I don’t care what the books say. I’m just talking from my experience. She’ll be at least seventy pounds. One more thing, I recommend you get a chip for her.” (A chip being a micro chip implanted under her skin.) I had the chip implanted before we left.

Thanks for taking me off that table, dad. I guess I can call you dad, mine seems to have disappeared. Let’s get out of here now.

We moved to the reception area so I could book her for scheduled shots.

I left not really believing him. C’mon all of the books I read on the breed say otherwise. They should be right. Wrong, full grown Tova became a lean seventy-five pounds and solid muscle. So much for the books.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Chapter One


Hey, you can put me down, I can walk. Why are you opening up those big doors? You’re not going to put me into that are you? What the heck is this thing? I’m leaving, why?

“Easy there girl, don’t be afraid. Nothing is going to hurt you.”

Easy for you to say big guy, I’m just a little puppy.

Tova yipped for awhile then fell asleep listening to music from the radio; and the rhythm of the ride, she slept most of the way home. She had comfortable blankets to curl up on and she was probably tired from playing with her brothers and sister. Waking up in this strange cage was not something she enjoyed. She began yipping again as puppies usually do and whining when yipping didn’t get her results. Fortunately, we were close to the house when she decided to take a dump. It was open the windows time; this little girl began to stink up the Suburban.

Where am I? What is the humming noise I’m hearing? Where is everyone else? This is scary! Let me out of here.

As I pull into the driveway, my wife, Linda walks out of the house. She couldn’t wait to see this puppy. I’m sure she realized I was not coming home empty handed. Gently I lifted Tova out of the cage and placed her down on the lawn. She walked around sniffing new odors and looked at us.

Why did you take me away? I was happy where I lived. Bring me back there.

Linda reached down and picks her up. You could see the pleasure in her eyes as she held another dog again. “I’ll bring her around back while you clean out the truck. Tova needs to scent the back yard.” The two of them head behind the house while I removed the cage and cleaned up the back end of my vehicle and hosed down the cage before I returned it to the owner.

Starting my vehicle, I could imagine her saying, Wait for me, don’t leave without me. Take me back home...

(Photo by Linda H. Feinberg)

Friday, June 4, 2010

Prologue---From Both Sides

I’ve been dealing with losing our dog by dreaming of getting the hunting dog some day. I subscribed to Gun Dog magazine shortly after Copper died to study how to choose a pup and a breeder. Gun Dog magazine is full of wonderful articles on all types of tips and stories of hunting dogs and their owners.

Since I already had a file on breeders I would contact, it was only a matter of finding if one of them had a female that I could check out. I wanted a female because she would be boarded in the house and I didn’t want my walls marked up as territory.

One breeder in Brunswick, Maine, had an eight week old litter ready to sell. There were nine pups in the litter, five were pre-sold before they were born, and now there are two males and two female available. My wife borrowed a cage from a friend just in case I wound up bringing one home.

Brunswick, Maine is two and a half hour drive from our home. As I pulled into the breeder’s yard I was greeted by three adult shorthairs barking to let the owner know someone was there.

The lady of the house came out; she told me she is the breeder.

We spoke for awhile about things we had already discussed on the phone. I guess I was just being sure I was making a good choice. What I learned from Gun Dog magazine is you can purchase a pup from a breeder but you need to be sure the dog is from good hunting stock. There are many breeders who breed their dogs more for show. The genetics in their lines tends to effect how they respond in the field. In other words if they don’t have the nose, it doesn’t matter how much you paid for the dog. It just won’t work.

To show me the quality of the litter, she took me out to the backyard where the puppies were. She showed me the parents and the grandparents. Taking a fishing pole with a pheasant feather attached to its line; she dragged the feather along the grass. It was amazing to watch four little puppies, tails wagging running to the feather and all four point. I had never seen such a sight before. But there was no question; they had the genes for hunting pheasants.

Next, I had to decide which female I would take. Putting each one through some of the exercises I learned about selecting a puppy, I found both dogs were about the same. However, one seemed to be more attentive to me then the other. I chose her.

After giving the breeder a check, she asked me if I had a name for her.

“I told her that she would be named Tova. Tova is an abbreviated form of the female noun spelled Tovah. It means good in Hebrew.” Since I am Jewish, I wanted her to have a Hebrew name.

She laughed telling me her son always picks names for each puppy after they are born, he had named her Zion. She thought Tova would be very appropriate for her.

Before I left the breeder gave me all of the registration papers I needed to register her with the American Kennel Club and records of her puppy shots.

Tova and I needed to head for home.

“Come on girl, we’re going home.”

But,I am home, what are you talking about?