We got and early start this time too, leaving Bozeman at 6AM
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Suzie gets a little scratch behind the ears from Alex..
Unfortunately she was mauled by a dip shit Golden Retriever that tore up her precious face, not ten %$# damned minutes after we arrived?!
"%$#@*"!!
I knew when Alex casually mentioned there'd be another dog present when we departed that morning something like this would probably happen, but I kept my cool (and lived to regret it). It never fails, other dogs just love to dominate the little gal whose about as innocent and nieve as they come, and its usually when she simply goes up to strange dogs to introduce herself like all doggys do and all hell breaks lose when that dog is agressive. It doesnt matter whether they be males or females they tear her face open and she looks up at me everytime with that look like "WTF"?
"...why did he do that?"
It also never helps to ask the dogs owner whether their dog is agressive as they always lie and say no; even though they know damned well it is. Then after the inevitable attack, they act all like:"..Gee thats weird he's never done that before..?"
"Bullshit!"
Never again. I will never again have another dog near her. I owe it to her to protect her from these animals and the next dog that does it is dead.
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So poor Suzie got the morning off and had to sit in the truck most of it, so her bleeding would stop, the EMT ointment would dry, and the three open punctures wouldn't get too dirty.
And Mocha was ready to go...
Unfortunately the river bottom on the ranch is nearly void of pheasants this year too, due to a poor wild hatch; so though she did point one single rooster it made an escape out the backdoor and we never even fired a shot.
She later pointed two hens which held tight for me to flush, then stared at me puzzled I didn't shoot at those either, and we went back to have lunch...no birds bagged thus far.
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During the day we stumbled upon no less than 30 dead deer, usually around water, as EHD took a heavy toll on the ranch this year (refer to one of my earlier posts on the subject for more info).
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Now it was Suzie's turn and she put on a good show considering her ordeal earlier in the morning (me constantly checking her wounds, making sure they were well cleaned).
We walked until our feet hurt and even switched dogs again, as tired as each got, but didn't find birds till the last light of day..
And boy did we find them. We entered what amounted to a field of dreams that held well over twenty sharptails easy, and scattered fifty yards apart, along with singles here and there; so a few actually held for Suzie and us to shoot at.
While most 'flushed wild' way out of range, given its late seaosn and they've been hunted before, more than a few should have come to bag; but we just couldn't connect. What was pure comedy at first; with both of us being caught with "safety on" when we pulled up but no shot came on chip shots, it soon was rather depressing as our combined shooting-skills sucked. Not to mention my old beater pump finally failed me and jammed repeatedly while trying to eject shells, but thats just another excuse for my misses on two more easy chip shots.
I tagged and bagged one single bird and then we headed home. Bad bite, bad shooting, but one cant complain when its 38 in December and we get to hunt the ranch; a priveldge I dont take lightly and thank Alex once again.
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Got one more hunt planned this weekend, then off for Christmas holiday, then back for one last 'road trip' on the closer (Jan 1st).
More Photo Essays to come...
Moe