Tur Bo
Blaze
Luke
I have some health issues that are going to keep me in the house for a couple of weeks so I have no opportunity to work the young dogs. Since I think about dogs or quail hunting most of the time I decided to write about some of the dogs I have owned.
I got an English setter pup from a litter raised by my good friend, Dennis Garrison, in the ’70’s. I don’t remember why but the kids had a good reason for naming him Scamp. He was white and orange and about 7 weeks old when we brought him home.
Before bird season opened I ran him with another dog I owned at the time on some wild birds that were close to the house. I could turn the dogs loose and walk to where I wanted to run them. I didn’t have to put leads on or anything. We just crossed a fence into a large pasture that had a couple of wild coveys.
Scamp was several months old when I decided he needed to walk on a lead. When I hooked a leash to his collar and stepped off he laid down. Whatever dog training book I was reading at the time said just drag them along the ground. Pretty soon they will get up and walk. As I drug him across the back yard with him making gurgling sounds my kids thought I was killing him. Scamp was gurgling and both of my kids were screaming so I stopped.
I was telling someone at work about this problem and they suggested that I hook him to another dog that would lead and go for a walk. I got a snap that you leash two dogs together with and hooked him to my other bird dog and we started across the yard. It was a week day and the kids were at school. We went all the way across the yard to the road and started down the road. We went down the hill then up another hill and turned the corner for a long block and Scamp was being dragged on his side. We went about half way down the next block before he decided to get up and walk. He was broke to lead. Now I know that if you will just stake a dog out several times that they will learn to lead on their own. Or better yet, put ropes on them at about 3 weeks old and let them drag them around the rest of their litter mates. They will break each other.
Back in those days we just took dogs hunting until they made a bird dog. There were plenty of wild birds and if you took the dog often enough he would make a bird dog. Scamp made a good bird dog. When he went on point he would stay on point for as long as the birds would hold.
My son, Ryan, and I were hunting near Warrensburg, Missouri one day and we lost Scamp. We looked and looked for him. About 45 minutes later we finally found him on point but he was sitting down. We walked in front of him and a large covey of quail flushed. I don’t remember if we killed any birds or not. I said something to Ryan about him being on point so long and Ryan said, “yeah, and did you see that look he gave you.” He wasn’t happy with me.
Scamp never retrieved but he would hunt dead really well. But as soon as he found the dead bird he would roll it over then go back to hunting, so you had to really watch him. Once in a great while he would pick a bird up but if he did he was going to bury it.
Kermit Maxwell and I were hunting near Pattonsberg, Missouri. Scamp was the only dog we had that day and on the first covey Kermit and I both dropped a quail. Scamp found mine but after a long search we couldn’t come up with Kermit’s bird. We finally went on.
Scamp pointed another covey in the edge of a corn field and after the smoke cleared we had 3 birds down. Two of the quail were in front of me in the corn field and I picked them up. I saw that Scamp had the other bird and was going away from us. I told Kermit to watch him and we followed after Scamp. Scamp stopped and dug a hole. He dropped the quail in then used his nose to push the dirt back over it and patted it with his foot and went on. When he came by us he still had dirt on his nose.
Kermit was almost rolling on the ground with laughter. He said, “I know that’s what happened to the first bird that we couldn’t find.” Although it was early in the morning when this took place Kermit would have been happy to have gone home right then. He wanted to tell people about Scamp.
Another time Dennis Garrison and I were hunting in Kansas and stopped at a place in Miami county. We had hunted somewhere else before stopping here and only needed a quail or two for a limit. A man and his wife with 3 English setters were just getting back to their truck when we pulled up. We stopped and talked to him. When we asked how he had done he said, “boys, there are no quail here. If there had of been these dogs would have found them.”
We ate our lunch, which in those days was probably a coke and snicker candy bar, after the man and his wife left. Dennis had at least one dog and I turned Scamp loose. We had covered most of the small farm and were thinking maybe the man was right about there not being any birds when we noticed that Scamp was missing. After about 10 minutes we found him buried in some thick cover on point. He had a covey of quail. A little later Dennis’s dog pointed a covey and we finished out our limits. I’m not trying to say our dogs were better than the man’s who had just left. The best dog in the world can’t point the bird if he’s on the wrong side.
When Scamp was about 11 years old Dennis and I were hunting near Warrensburg, Missouri. We had just crossed a creek and as we neared a fence Scamp ran in front of me and ran into a fence post. I thought that was odd but we continued on. Then I saw him run into a tree and it dawned on me that he was blind. We started back to the truck but I didn’t have a leash with me so I just had to let him run. He was in some cover in front of me when Dennis said, “we got a point.” I said, “go ahead, I’m going to get Scamp back to the truck.” He said, “It’s Scamp on point.” I said, “I’ll be right there.” We walked in front of him and a single quail flushed my way and I killed it. That was the last bird killed over Scamp.
Scamp lived through the winter but the next spring I could see that it was time to ease his pain. I took him to see Dr. Becker at the Independence Animal Hospital and he assured me that I had made the right decision. I looked at Dr. Becker and tears were dripping off his chin just as they were off mine. Scamp was a good dog.
Tur Bo in front Dolly in back
Dolly
Lucky