I grew up learning to hunt and be responsible by hunting rabbits. The man wore a faded red leather cap and a red tie afield. He kept a pack of beagles chained to dog boxes in the back yard they ate Purina dog chow and table scraps from a bucket that was kept right in the kitchen. You didn't start till 9:00am exactly on opening day typically the last Saturday in October. The man would put me on post between two briar thickets and make sure you had 5 .410 shells. It was made clear you were to stay there until you were called. And not shoot anywhere near the dogs. And away would walk the man in the red hat never a single look back. Jumping Dog was often first strike and Blackie would lay them out and keep them moving. Many days a limit was the reward for staying put. When we walked a field the man in the red cap taught me to walk a zig zag, because you miss a lot of them walking a straight line.
Today 50 plus years latter, I still walk a zig zag across the man in the red cap's ground, though now mostly when teaching a birddog pup to quarter or remind an older dog we don't want to miss anything.
|
Threaded Mode