Teamwork Between Man and Animal

Bird hunting at its most basic level is a relatively simple endeavor.

Dog flushes bird.

Hunter shoots bird.

Dog retrieves bird.

When it all comes together it’s a beautiful thing to experience, a well-orchestrated bit of teamwork between man and animal.

Seldom, however, does it all come off so simply. More often it’s a different scenario ending with dog flushes bird out of range.

Or hunter misses easy shot.

Or dog can’t believe hunter actually hit something and has no interest in finding dead bird.

I’ve met hunters who claim they seldom miss, dropping every bird they shoot at, their dogs making every retrieve.

But while I understand that is the goal, I think it misses the point. It’s the imperfection of it all that keeps me coming back. Were I to hit all my shots, my dogs to only flush birds in range, I fear that I’d soon lose interest.

Oh, there are certainly times when I feel I can’t miss, when the dogs are working close, and bringing me every bird that falls from the sky. However, I’ve hunted long enough to know it won’t last.

About the time I start thinking I’m pretty good at this I get my comeuppance and therein lies the attraction. What fun would it be to never miss, to master an imperfect sport?

I have no idea. Even on my best days -- which I fear are behind me -- I’m just a passable shot, and the control I have over my dogs is tenuous.

Fortunately, no one is keeping score, except perhaps the dogs and they’re not talking.

I endured a terrible shooting slump this fall, couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, even dreamt about my misses at night. Then last week while hunting the shortgrass Dot flushed a sharptail. I swung on the bird and dropped it. She picked it up and brought it to me, then turned and resumed hunting.

I called her back and made her sit.

“Let’s enjoy this for a minute,” I told her. “It’s been a while.”

She sat there looking at me quizzically until I released her with an “OK.”

A few minutes later she flushed another grouse. I swung on it, squeezed the trigger, and watched it fly away.

The elation I’d felt earlier had vanished.

I think I need more practice.

Parker Heinlein is at [email protected]