My past year has been very busy in the dog-training department. I have exceeded my allotted time and budgetary obligations towards the project, and I am starting to second-guess taking on such a large in-house venture.
Well, to be honest, I’ve also kind of enjoyed it. Ask any dog-loving family about the joys and trials of the puppy phase, and I am sure you will hear some wishy-washy language from them as well.
Hunting dogs have been a large part of my life and lifestyle. I understand the responsibility and have accepted my role as a dog handler many years ago. It would be hard to imagine my life without a crisp fall day, a well-trained gun dog and an afternoon walk in the woods with a dog or two watching them learn and excel at their job. Add in a person or two who is new to the sport of hunting and hunting dogs, and the afternoon may just be one to remember.
Blue is a year-old mountain feist that is the son of my squirrel-hunting partner and master, Boogie. Blue has a lot to learn, and he will, with more hunting opportunities under his belt. Having said that, I am very pleased with his progress over the last year, and he has become my morning walking buddy. He listens well, follows my commands on most occasions and loves to run the woods in search of smells and sights that excite him.
When he runs, there is no doubt he is hunting, although at times I am not certain he knows exactly what he is hunting for. But that is perfectly fine for a dog his age in the early season.
With a hunting license in my pocket, a farm that contains hunting lands that I know very well and hunting seasons being open, I loaded up the truck and headed to the cliffs of the Gauley River for a mid-morning walk in the woods with Blue.
We walked the old haul roads that led around the mountain overlooking several steep hollows.
From the top of the hill, I noticed that several of the hollows had large beech trees along the springs and creeks. Blue must have noticed the same, as he ran toward the bottomland with a noseful of scent that he wanted a closer look into.
Around the next bend in the mountain, I heard the scattering of turkeys. Blue had run smack in the middle of a flock that must have been feeding on the excellent crop of beech nuts.
Blue came back to me smiling the way only a hunting dog can when they finally solved the mystery of what was on the end of that scent trail. We walked back to the truck, and I gave Blue some water and a handful of snacks and let him rest in the shade. I decided to go listen to the flock assembling back together, as fall wild turkey vocalizations are one of my favorite fall sounds. If you like turkey talk and calling, fall is the time and place.
As I sat high on the mountain listening to lost hen yelps to my left down in the hollow and gobbler yelps above me on a hardwood flat, I could not have been happier anywhere else on earth. A crisp fall day, bright sunshine, and blue-bird colored sky, a hunting dog learning all the new sights and sounds in the fall woods, and me resting my legs and lungs sitting gently against a large whiteoak tree with the warm sunshine on my face – it was simply perfect.
As far as my commitment to take on the time, energy and resources to train a puppy in hopes that one day he will become a great hunter — yeah, it’s been well worth it. I think.
Chris Ellis is a veteran of the outdoors industry. His book “Hunting, Fishing and Family from The Hills of West Virginia” is available at . Contact him at chris@elliscom.net.
