I took the dogs duck hunting last Saturday on what is probably my last hunt of the season. Dakota retrieved the one duck that I shot, which means that she finally knows what it’s all about.
On the down side, my shooting woes returned and my aim was dismal. Compounded by bad luck, I should be thankful to get that one duck. I missed so many shots that I’m suspecting this box of shells are no good. Really.
To start off with, we stopped at a stream where there were a number of ducks, flushed them, and I shot and missed. Then downstream to where several other ducks were paddling about; those ducks flushed but brush prevented me from getting a shot. they triggered a chain reaction up and down the stream in which well over 100 ducks flushed.
We looked for stragglers and found two sitting on the water, one of which I shot. I only wounded it and it managed to take off, with me missing the shot as it passed by. The duck was really struggling and there were several times that I expected to see it drop, but it managed to stay in the air and disappeared somewhere up another stream.
Dakota really frustrated me when she caught the scent of ducks in that adjoining stream which we were (carefully) approaching. I didn’t have hold of her collar and she broke, flushing a hundred or more ducks. I made her heel all the way back to the Jeep, but then what else could I expect? After all, I’ve been encouraging them to break and flush ducks.
For the next hour or so, we flushed ducks, sometimes getting a shot and sometimes not – and being surprised when ducks flushed from spots that we had just hunted. Once, we checked an area of the stream and flushed some ducks, the dogs waded in the water searching where they had been, then caught scent of a couple of Pheasants in nearby willows and flushed them. While I was telling them what good girls they were for finding the Pheasants, half a dozen ducks flushed nearby, not far from where the dogs had been wading in the stream; the willows prevented me from getting a shot.
Continuing up the stream, I stared down a flock of geese and tried to figure out how to get close enough for a shot. They took off and when I reached the stream, a large flock of ducks flushed with me missing another shot or two – along with one straggling goose that I may have brought down, but I passed on the shot. If I had a heavier load, I would have taken the shot.
After missing another couple of shots, I decided to do some target practice. I shot at a rock that was in the stream, maybe 100 feet away – about the range I had been shooting all day. My aim was right on, but the shot began hitting the water about 25 feet short of the rock and only a few bb’s made it to the rock. I decided that it was time to give up.
While returning to the Jeep, I saw four ducks that didn’t seem too excited about our presence, so we went after them. When we came upon the spot where I had seen them and found that three of the ducks had silently taken off. The remaining duck was the one that I had wounded earlier and I got it as it attempted to take off, but couldn’t.
In all, it was a successful hunting season and looking back on it, I can see where work needs to be done, reflect on my dogs’ accomplishments, and look forward to a new season.