Was pleased to find that the local temps had dropped to something more in line with what we're used to around here this time of year, and I had a hunch that one of my little spots would hunt well as a result. Here's a pic of my passenger window as I left at o' dark fifteen.



Headed over to my bud's place, where he generously lets me store my duck boats and other truck, and in short order we had the boat hooked up, his lab Oz in the back and coffee in hand. It wasn't until we were halfway to where we were going that I realized I hadn't seen him grab the blocks. Oh, shyte. Back to the house. While stowing blocks in the rig, he calls my attention to a strong smell of gas. Well, turns out my extra gallon of fuel works better when the screwcap is actually on tight. Oh, Jayzus, one of *those* mornings it was going to be... On the bright side, I suppose that's one novel way to cut down on my smoking for the morning...

Well, long story shorter, that was the last of Mr. Murphy's jokes for the day, and just as shooting light came, we got to where I wanted to be, and as we rounded the last oxbow ready to hurriedly set our spread, a great mob of ducks and geese took to wing. The old adage 'be where they want to be' indeed. God bless the frosty New England morning!



For the next 30 minutes birds buzzed around like bats, and in short order it was clear to me that these were new, uneducated birds, and I was able to consistently work them into our laps with the call. We started pounding them. We ended up seeing GW teal, mallards, woodies, black ducks and geese, and were able to savor the luxury of taking turns bashing our beloved feathery friends. Alas, of the species we were in the company of, only the GWT escaped our wrath. We did however get a black X mallard hybrid. Not rare here by any stretch, but a neat mutt of a bird. Oz was in fine form, and his whines and excited trembling did my heart good. He's 9 this season, but the ineviatble slowing down with his age I have witnessed the past couple of seasons did not show and he did us proud. Here's the old fellow, scanning the skies for birds. The intensity of his gaze, like that of many seasoned bird dogs, is common, but one I shall never tire of seeing.



As we were packing it in for the day, I took a moment to snap a couple of pics of our bag for the day. Not too shabby at all.



Just then, we heard honking, and turned to see a pair of geese heading our way over the treeline. Now Oz loves loves loves ducks, but he gets as nutty as a shithouse rat over geese. He literally growl-whined when he saw them, and as I've seen him go after them with a vigor and passion somehow a notch above his usual drive, I wanted to have him be able to get feathers from at least one in his gob. My buddy said, "sorry Oz, too far I think..." Not for me, bud, I thought, as I raised up and cut loose. Down one came, corkscrewing like a top, and crash landed within 50 feet of us. Oz was on him in an instant. Honestly, I don't know what it is about geese--maybe their sheer size--but it is clear as day that he has a special 'thing' for them. Some people say dogs do not smile. I say booshat. Oz smiles. As a side note, despite my love for hunting them, one thing that never ceases to tug at my heartstrings is seeing a forlorn mate of the goose I just dropped, circling the area and plaintively honking in fear, and I swear, sadness. Often, the survivor throws caution to the wind in order to see about their downed life partner, and I am happier when I am able to unite them in death. Alas, this time, after circling several times, bid its mate adieu. A sad thing it is, but part of being a waterfowler, I suppose. Here is a pic of my buddy, Oz and the final tally for the morning.



Lastly, I'm going to try to attach a video of one of Oz's retrieves, on the one woodie I managed to drop. I know there are many naysayers about steel loads, but I never knew anything different when I started my ducking career, and while not as potent as lead or any of the modern designer loads, does the job, evidenced I think by the damage done. That hen I took at 40 yards. Load was plain old 12 ga; 1 1/8 oz of steel #4s. Anyway, cheers and hope folks here enjoy.

KG

Great pictures, great hole and great dog...perfect hunt. Thanks for taking us along.

You bet, friend. The pleasure is all mine--and Oz's.

quote:

Originally posted by Palmer:
Great pictures, great hole and great dog...perfect hunt. Thanks for taking us along.

+1

Well done

You are killing me buddy

quote:

Originally posted by ivan carter:
You are killing me buddy

Mission accomplished, then.

The blessed remedy is near at hand. Keep the faith, man.

quote:

While stowing blocks in the rig, he calls my attention to a strong smell of gas. Well, turns out my extra gallon of fuel works better when the screwcap is actually on tight. Oh, Jayzus, one of *those* mornings it was going to be... Roll Eyes On the bright side, I suppose that's one novel way to cut down on my smoking for the morning...

I've been on this hunt before, I think. Glad yours turned out well. Hope Oz stays busy.