I put Radar on planted Maine preserve pheasants during his puppy phase, as live birds develop such a dog's natural instincts, and sometimes stocked game is a more predictable option as you bring a pup along. Five years old in June, such a gesture now feels equal to shooting hoops at the local Y. It's not the real game, but something. Not sure if I will arrange for such a ringneck release on somebody's preserve property when the weather eases up. Maybe. Maybe not.
My heirloom Fox double in hand, we last got out on December 29, found four Pine Tree State grouse, but came home with none. Fact is, neither I nor my hunting buddy, took a shot. Each time the ruff eluded us, putting cover between it and our urgent glances at departing wings. No matter. His points came on birds just five or six steps away. Despite that, we never had an open shooting window to push a swarm of no. 6 shot through. We've found grouse since then on casual times afield: me, gunless, and Radar simply doing what he's bred for, and encouraged to do. He moves through cover like a point guard going to the hole, driving, slashing, cruising along in steady, flowing style. Sometimes witnessing that is enough. It's plenty.
Today--15 degrees F. with a stiff west wind running in palpable gusts of 25-35 mph that approach like high-speed trains, and run by our log house like humming rivers as they fade--we're inside. He watches my every move. When I go to tend the woodstove fire, he follows. On returning here, he's at my side, head resting on my right knee.
New York State offers a grouse season that runs through month's end (Feb. 28), but something holds me back. Wonder what would happen if the weather lifted?
