I’ve been thinking a lot about my kennel full of English setters during this monsoon season. It rains so much that I do more thinking about them than training. Our normal rain fall for the year is 36 to 37 inches but this year we have already received 30 inches, in the first 6 months. Our quail may have to be web footed to survive.
Babe on the whoa barrel.
Sally holding the frozen quail.
Mann pointing a pigeon.
Sally is in the air conditioned shed with her litter of 6 puppies. The first thunder storm that came through she tried to go back to her kennel. I have a large pen that I turn the dogs into when I clean kennels and she has a dog door on the shed where she can go in and out of the shed, into this large pen. After the storm I went out to check on her and the puppies. She was wet but she had returned to the shed. I checked her after the next one and she was dry. She must have decided the cool shed was better than being in the rain.
The thunder storms bother my dogs but they also are bothered by fire works, high winds and just rain falling on their sheet metal roof. They don’t shake and cower from any of these but they go into their houses and wait for it to be over. The only time I can get near the kennels without the dogs seeing me is when it’s thundering, real windy or fireworks are going off. None of them are bothered by gunshots. They seem to like the gunshots.
Years ago I was hunting in Missouri close to the Iowa line in a thunderstorm. I had an old English setter named Judy that hated thunderstorms. She was smarter than her owner. As I walked along a draw with the lightning flashing constantly she walked with me but with her head against my leg. A rooster pheasant flushed in front of me and I knocked it down. Judy ran out grabbed the bird and came back in a run. I took the pheasant from her and we continued on down the draw with her head against my leg. Finally, after we both were about as wet as we could get I decided we should quit. We went back to the truck.
A lot of years ago, Dennis Garrison and I were hunting on opening morning of quail season, in Missouri. Back in those days there were lots of quail and we usually killed a limit on opening day. When we got to where we wanted to hunt there was a torrential rain coming down with lightning flashes that were almost touching the ground. But it was opening day so we jumped out with our shotgun barrels held high like lightning rods.
Mann pointing a pigeon.
The property we were hunting was a half mile by a mile. A half section. I don’t remember how many quail we got but I do remember walking a mile down a hedge row then moving over and hunting back to the truck. It was still raining with a bunch of lightning and even if it was opening day we decided to give it up. I’m no smarter but I’m more of a fair weather hunter now.
One year we were hunting in Kansas later in the season. The day was clear and cold, well below freezing. We parked my truck in the edge of a corn field to get it off the road. The place we were hunting was almost a full section. A mile by a mile with about 40 acres sold off for a county lake. We were young and walked most of the day without coming back to the truck.
It warmed to above freezing and the top half inch or so thawed out making it really slick on top. We got back to the truck which was a standard shift, with a granny low. This granny low was only used when you were pulling a heavy load. Top speed in this gear was maybe 5 or 10 miles per hour. We loaded the dogs and tried to drive off. The top was so slick that when I let out on the clutch the truck didn’t even try to move. The tires were spinning.
Babe pointing a pigeon.
I tried forward then reverse. The truck didn’t even shake. I put the transmission in the granny low and we got out and started throwing corn cobs and corn stalks, from the harvested field, under the tires. The truck started moving but just barely. As we threw more cobs and stalks under the tires it got going maybe a mile per hour with the tires spinning. More cobs and staalks and it slowly gained speed. We jumped in and slowly drove out of the field.
Sally has been real tolerant about people petting her puppies. Every day since they were born someone besides me has been here to pet them. The first day, shortly after they were born she curled up around them like she didn’t want to share them, even with me. A couple of hours later she was fine with me or anyone petting them. Yesterday there were 9 people besides me that petted the puppies. In my opinion, this really socializes the puppies. They like people.
Today I put collars on each of the puppies. Then later I tied some small ropes to the “D” ring on the collar. Delmar Smith talks about doing this with puppies so they learn to give to the rope when their brothers and sisters see the rope coming by and grab it. Delmar tied the ropes around their neck using a bowlen knot. I’m afraid that my knots might slip and choke a puppy. Each collar has a different color so it helps me identify the puppies.
Watching the weather tonight gives me a little hope that I may be able to train dogs some this week without getting rained on.
Sally and her puppies.
Tur Bo pointing a pigeon.
Luke pointing a pigeon.