Melody breeds award-winning German Shorthair Pointers which she also trains to guide grouse and woodcock hunts in Maine. She and her husband, Marcus Rogers, manage King & Bartlett Fish and Game Club in Eustis, Maine. Melody and I occasionally share dog training stories, and when she sent me this tale of a training session – one of the funniest I’ve heard in a long time – I asked if I could share it with womenhunters.com. – Nancy Anisfield
I am hoping to test my shorthair Aspen this year in the NAVHDA (North American Versatile Hunting Dog Association) Utility Test. I have her ready on the land stuff – search, pointing, tracking – but not on the duck hunting part of the test. So, I started her last summer at King & Bartlett on duck work; she catches on faster than me. But our first time out with a live duck is the story:
Judie Bayles and I went to Bear Lake II, and I let her bind the duck's legs and wings as is often the recommended way to keep the duck accessible for the dog in training. Aspen, however, had never retrieved a live duck – half dead land birds, but not a duck. I only wanted to throw it out a few feet and have her retrieve it, so if I had to, I could go out to her. Judie, though, whaled it way out. Aspen almost made it to the duck, but the duck’s wing got loose and the duck could propel itself so it wouldn’t be chomped by the dog. ...
Meanwhile, my blood pressure was going up, because all I wanted was for this to be fun, positive and most of all successful. And I could see was that it was going to be very difficult for any of the above to occur! Poor Aspen was going after the duck, but it wasn’t wounded. It was strong. It could dive and use its wing to skid across the water – just not fly.
So, when Aspen started to give up, I wanted to go to her so she wouldn't quit. I started swimming up Bear Lake, with the dog and the duck way ahead of me, of course.
Then it just got worse. The duck got further ahead, and I got further behind. Then the duck turned around, and we started to head back towards the docks. I yelled to Judie to get the boat, and you know how those boats can be when the oar locks don't stay in. They kept slipping, so Judie couldn’t maneuver at all. Then I told her to get her dog Kimber because we needed a fresh dog. Poor Aspen had been playing fetch off the dock all afternoon with a few girls from France who just adored her, so she was already beat, and this was only supposed to be a 15 minute introduction for her. At that point, we’d been swimming (me too!) after this duck for over 25 minutes. I was tired but determined she wouldn’t learn to give up.
Now we had me, Judie still in the pesky rowboat, and Aspen and Kimber chasing the duck that had gone to the other end of the lake. Frustrated, I got to shore and grabbed Judie's kayak from on top of her jeep, so I could get out there and try to corner that duck for our dogs. (It’s all for the dogs you know!) Well, that duck was an escape artist!
We were then approaching 40 minutes of chasing this #$@#$!! duck!
Poor Aspen had been swimming her heart out for 40 minutes. Halfway down in the middle of the woods, she climbed to shore, just pooped out! I couldn’t make her get back in, knowing she’d had enough. So, blood pressure still up, I yelled to Judie, "Don't take your eyes off that duck! We are solving this problem."
I jumped in her jeep and flew (truly flew) back to camp, loaded another kayak onto my pick-up, grabbed my shotgun and flew back to the lake. Shotgun in hand, I dragged the kayak to the edge and started to get in.
I do know how to get in a kayak, but I wasn't paying attention. Over I went, arm raised up in the air holding my gun out of the water with my other arm sunk in muck...my blood was even more boiling now. After climbing out and correctly getting into the kayak, I heard Judie say she had lost track of the duck.
"How could you have lost track of the duck? Where did you last see it?"
She showed me where she last saw it and said, "We just should go back; we're not going to find it."
"Judie, we're into this an hour and a half," I answered. "We are going after this duck until we get it or it gets dark. Our dogs will not see us give up!" Out into the lake I went once again, now with my other shorthair, Abbie. I’d needed another fresh dog, one who wouldn’t give up the search. That’s Abbie.
I held the shotgun between my legs. Judie and I and Kimber and Abbie searched. I finally heard Abbie's nose just a’sniffing, and I was not going to let that barn duck win.
Judie yelled, "It’s over here!"
As fast as I could paddle, I headed up the lake. Sure enough, on the south shore was that %&*%!!! duck.
I told Judie to stay put and to keep Kimber back. We were going to end this adventure!
I took out the shotgun, and as the duck went behind a log, I could still see it and took my chance (it is different shooting sitting in a kayak by the way, you have to tighten your stomach muscles!).
BOOM, BOOM.... Abbie and Kimber took off – the duck was wounded. Abbie found it first, and as Judie and I paddled toward the docks, Abbie swam by with the @#$@#%!!! duck in her mouth. On shore, she gave me my prize. It was finally over with, I was totally tired, and the sun had set. We rolled into camp just as it became difficult to see.
I haven’t trained Aspen on ducks quite that way since. I can say, though, I’ll bet I am the only person that has done laps in Big Bear Lake after a duck and a dog. Swimming, kayaking and with a shotgun.
