9/3/23. September is finally upon us, and my 4 year old son Beau, my Dad, and my new German wire hair June celebrated by making a dove outing this morning. Arrived about shooting time to over cast skies and a kinda sorta refreshing breeze from the north and east. Low around 70. Heavy dew. Every year I get there at daylight to dove hunt and every year I’m reminded I should’ve slept in a little and got there at sunrise instead. This year was no different, with a handful flying as we set up but then dead dead for almost an hour. Things finally picked up around 7 and I missed several opportunities dealing with Beau and a rookie fetching hound (who protested being staked out by taking a dump beside it). Even so, I quickly hit my “Beau limit” of 2 “dubs”, because he was ready to go fishing. Had we stayed, dad and I probably could’ve killed 4 or 5 more each. So we left them flying and headed to the the pond where Beau caught a little bass that he insisted I clean. Then up to see horses at the barn, to the creek crossing to check on Dad’s browntop field that’ll be ready in a couple weeks and let beau play in the sand on the creek bank, to the back 40 to gawk at the logging equipment, and to the back corner in the creek bottom to see a turkey carcass dad found hanging in the fork of a tree last week. First in tact turkey carcass I’ve ever come across in the woods. They’re usually devoured by coyotes but this one was above their reach. We found it less than 100 yards from where a hunter “missed” one this spring, so I suspect the shot was lethal but just not immediately. Grrrrr.
Anyway, back to business, June had a marginal debut. Didn’t mark either of the doves I shot, but in fairness to her I was splitting time between her and beau, when I should’ve had my time solely devoted to her. I just had her staked out beside me so she wouldn’t develop any breaking habits, even though she’s become reliably steady in training. Walked her out to the first one and after briefly pointing it; she picked it up and brought it right back to me. Same deal on the second one except she had a little harder mouth and didn’t want to give it up.

Feather beard after the second retrieve.

Showing off Grandaddy’s bird.
Felt good to be back afield with a shotgun in hand. Wouldn’t mind a few degrees cooler though.