Finally, I Get To Go Hunting.

Chief's First Blue (dusky) Grouse of the 2013 Season.

What a Summer. We bought a new house, sold our old house, had family issues up the wazoo (teenagers, who needs them) and work had me slammed all Summer. I was tired, honery and stressed. I felt like grandpas old full-choke LC Smith after his ignorant grandson grabbed a box of steel shot and took it duck hunting.  I was bulging and about to break. I was starting to feel sick, fat and depressed. I couldn't take it another week.

Just before I was about to break... when I was so tired of it all that no-one could stand to be around me, Grouse hunting season opened. A fat desk jockey, a fat Pudelpointer and a skinny, hyperactive Llewellin loaded into the truck and went hunting. Halelujah! Free at last.

That was a little melodramatic. But seriously, thank God I can go hunting. One Saturday in the mountains and the weight of the world is lifted. I had such a good time on my first hunt that it's all I can think about. I can't wait for next weekend.

I love watching my Llew Chief's high head winding birds from incredible distances, moving smoothly as cat while following wisps of scent along a ridge line. Dropping over the ledge at just the right spot pinning a grouse that has no where to go. It has to fly.  Missing with the first barrel in the heavy cover and taking a second shot when the bird clears the canopy then watching it fold. The veteran Pudelpointer Hazel working a cover and backing Chiefs point then hunting dead until that bird is found. Watching her intensity change in a millisecond whenever she gets a whiff of fresh bird scent.

I love hunting. I love my dogs, I love my guns, I love grouse and I love these mountains.

"Chief Like Grouse"
Another Blue In The Bag. A Nice Find And Retrieve. 


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