It was just getting dusk as Henry pulled into the drive of the cabin. It was the first week in October and as he unpacked the truck and let the dog out for a run he took in his familiar surroundings he paused for moment to relish in the fact that he was back in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan hunting Grouse and Woodcock.
After the gear was sorted for the morning hunt he sat back with a refreshment and relived the past year. In some ways it was a blur and in others it dragged on for eternity. Winter was a bitch there was just no way around it, it plain sucked. Spring seemed to last a weekend and summer was gone just as fast and here we were back in the glory month of October and it to would only last but a brief moment in time.
The year had brought some changes for Henry, the biggest being Rudy's health. His arthritis was worse and on more than one occasion he required a boost onto the couch. There was a new fatty tumor on his belly and even though the vet disregarded it Henry felt it was a sign of bigger things to come. A cataract was eating away the vision in Rudy's left eye as well. Rudy was now 12 and Henry hoped for some additional time in the field even if it was on a limited basis but he recognized the writing on the wall and the need for another dog. This proposed addition met with great resistance from Alice Henry's wife of 30 years. There was to be no new puppy period end of story. There was new carpet throughout the house and a puppy meant accidents, then there was the chewing, the training, puppy food in addition to Rudy's food and then there was Rudy himself. how would he react to an upstart pup?
The debate raged on for weeks but it was like the two sides of Congress, nothing was getting accomplished. Promises were made to no avail it was a deadlock and Henry finally gave up the quest for a pup.
It was mid April and Henry was tying some trout flies using the Grouse feathers from the season before when the phone rang. It was Bill on the phone who was the breeder he had gotten Rudy from. Henry had contacted him about a pup but as that wasn't going to happen it had slipped from his mind. Seems Bill had a client with a 18month old GSP named Gus he had hoped to use in Field Trials but Gus wasn't cutting the mustard but he would make a great hunting dog. He was broke to the gun, knew the basics commands, had been introduced to birds and he was house trained. This revelation started a new debate with Alice and this time Henry was victorious on the one condition that Gus and Rudy would get along. Henry wrote a check for $500 from the family account and sent it to Bill, the other $1500 was a postal money order, no need to rock the boat over money.
Gus arrived with a bundle of enthusiasm and he and Rudy got along ok. Gus had a vacuum cavity for a nose and could cover ground in the blink of an eye. Henry worked him on pigeons over the summer and into early fall he switched to Quail. Gus was steady to wing but not to shot and was somewhat hard headed. The E-collar usually got his attention and he would get back to business. They hunted some preserve Pheasant with good success but Henry knew this ain't Grouse hunting. Hence the early October time frame for the U.P. hunt where he hoped to work Gus on some Woodcock. Henry didn't usually hunt them as he favored Grouse but the Little Russet Feller would provide good training opportunities for Gus.
Another change in henry's equipment was a little Grade 2 16ga hammergun. It was in pretty good shape for being 130 years old had a ball grip and 26 inch damascuss barrels. It was fairly open choked and Henry had shot some skeet and sporting clays with it and had wondered what it would be like to hunt with the hammergun. Perhaps it was a nostalgia thing a step back to more simple times.
After a hearty breakfast he and Gus headed for the covert the Yooper had told him about last year. It was just Henry and Gus this time as Henry was more focused on a training trip and as he left the house a bark from Rudy put a tear in his eye. Henry took the hammergun also as he wanted to try it out. Gus pointed some birds and as Henry closed the cocked hammergun he noticed the shells had fallen out somewhere along the path. He tried to cock the hammers when the bird flushed but that wasn't working very well either and he finally settled on cocking them when he walked in on point. The day progressed fairly well with seven Woodcock pointed and two Grouse. The hammergun proved to be a bit of a challenge but Henry got his first bird with it a Woodcock that spiraled through the golden aspen under Gus's point.
Henry had brought some maps and was looking for new spots to try when he found a section of state land that had a small creek through it. there was a hardwood ridge that followed the creek with turned out to be a feeder creek to the Yellow Dog River. The map showed some low ground that should be good for Woodcock and a 15 year old Aspen cut was also nearby.
The two hunters had a great day with one Grouse and two Woodcock in the bag rom their new found covert and as the sun changed places with the moon they were slowly walking back to the truck when Hell broke loose. A deer burst from cover along the edge of the road and in a instant Gus was in hot pursuit. Henry hit the E-collar to no avail as Gus ran through the pain and disappeared. Henry called and blew his whistle until he was horse and with darkness closing in he was once again in a familiar predicament. He left his coat on the ground and a few dog treats and made his way to the truck. With each step he cursed himself for not having Gus on a leash, there was no more hunting for the day he should have been on a leash. At the truck Henry drove back to where he left the coat hoping that in the 30 odd minuets it took him Gus would be back but it was just wishful thinking as Gus wasn't there. He left a bowl of water for him in case he returned.
Back at the cabin Henry's mind went through all sorts of non productive scenarios. Gus would have to deal with Coyotes and then there were the Wolves, what chance did he have against his canine relatives? With each passing hour the knot grew like a cancer in Henry's stomach. He couldn't eat and even the copious amounts of Jack Daniels didn't help. What would he tell Alice if he came home without Gus? She had grown very fond of him. As it always does darkness gave way to a new dawn and Henry was out at first light. He drove directly to where he left the coat but Gus wasn't there. It didn't appear that he made it back there at all. He called and called and called, he blew his whistle and prayed to God that Gus was safe and they would be reunited. Henry visited several camps in his travel's but no one had seen a dog running the woods. Gus's collar had Henry's name and cell phone number so maybe someone will call.
At dawn of day three Henry once again set out on the search for Gus with the same results as the previous two days. He walked the woods in the direction Gus had gone in ever widening circles but no sign was to be found of Gus. It was if he vanished into thin air. It was late afternoon as he headed towards the truck his shoulders slumped, his heart heavy as he shuffled down the two track his own personal trail of despair. He headed for the cabin and as he turned onto the paved highway his phone showed a voice mail. Probably Alice he thought checking up on how the hunt was going. What would he tell her? Then he noticed it was a 906 prefix, a U.P. number. He slammed on the brakes and pulled over and with trembling hands listened to the message. "you da guy wit lost da dog eh"? If so call me at this number. henry quickly called and confirmed he had indeed lost a dog. He wrote down the directions and broke the speed limit getting to the Yooper's house.
He offered the Yooper a reward but it was declined. Henry passed the Tall Pines store and stopped and bought a Styrofoam cooler, a case of Old Style and some ice. As he drove up the drive a gentleman who looked to be in his mid 60's was sitting on the porch of an old farm house that hadn't seen a coat of paint in a very long time. Beside him curled up in a ball was Gus sound asleep without a care in the world. When Henry got out of the car Gus woke up and ran to him and jumped into his arms and gave his face a good washing. Once again a reward was offered and declined. The Yooper said he used to hunt birds and had lost a dog a time or two himself for awhile and knew the feeling. Henry asked him if he still hunted and the reply was no he had a bad hip, the result of a war injury. Henry did the math and figured he was a Viet Nam vet. those guys are long on guts but short on conversation. Henry loaded Gus into the truck and returned to the porch with the cooler. The Yooper's eyes lit up a little at the thought of a cold beer and they shared a few and swapped some hunting stories.
As Henry headed back to his cabin the thought about all the generosity the Yoopers had showed him over the last couple of years and smiled.
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There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter...Earnest Hemingway
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06-19-2014, 09:24 PM
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