Hurd State Park lies on the eastern bank of the Connecticut River roughly between the city of Middletown and the small town of Haddam. The state of CT swears they will stock pheasants in this area. Cooper, the gun pup, and
Bella, the old gun dog rescue, visited this spot together prior to bird season. A trial run after which I thought it best to hunt them individually. Bella won the Nutro biscuit toss up. Late in the afternoon we walked the mile down hill to the meadow, known as
Higganum Meadows, following powerlines and over a seasonal stream wet from recent rain. The land falls quickly and lower and lower you climb passing through hardwoods bright with fall color until you are on the flat meadow that abuts the river. If I was a farmer I would think corn or hay. The state cuts a maze through grass as tall as the average man. I had been told that Bella was a good hunter but my expectations were low. The previous owner was about to drop her off at a shelter before we took her in and he said Bella was quick on birds. He had also tried to give her away to members of his hunt club, but there were no takers for this 7-year-old. Today she worked close and kept an eye out for me. She, as well as Cooper, have learned to change direction on command.
“Whup!” She shifted direction, ignoring other dogs and hunters, honoring another dog’s point. I did not expect much action from the put-and-take pheasant this late in the day either. That was probably a good thing since the
Ruger Red Label in the crook of my arm was new. I have held the company of Rugers in chopped corn fields and on skeet fields and sporting clays courses well before they sported choke tubes so this was a reintroduction of sorts, like meeting up with an old acquaintance. Still I shouldered it a few times making sure the recoil pad cleared my vest. Bella was suspicious of the small wave of water coming toward shore but she was thirsty. Reassured when I stood in the swallow water, she felt safe to drink though still suspicious of the rolling ripples. Back up the river bank we made the loop around the back half of the meadow, working the fringe then hunting the soft ground around the marsh hoping for a wayward woodcock. The other hunters had left and Bella was quick to find the remains of downed birds, she looked me in the eyes.
"Yes, girl, we are a little late." On the walk back, I cracked the Ruger and carried it over my shoulder. It was stiff like all new over-and-unders so I opened and closed the action on empty chambers and held two shells in my hand as we climbed the hill to the truck in case we flushed a straggler. I thought I would be the one waiting for her to catch up, but she stopped looking back for me. At home I brushed her out and she looked into my eyes.
“Yes it was a good day after all.” And then the gun pup pushed his nose between us. He wanted to be brushed, too.
Being the Luddite I am the thought of strapping more electronics around my dog’s neck makes me wonder if they are GSPs or F-16s. A few gents this past season had some infernal contraptions around their dogs’ necks to make sure that the said gentlemen don’t lose their dogs. The collars beeped and buzzed so much I didn’t know whether to get up or hit the snooze button. I like the old school sound of bells and I use two distinct sounds so I can identify when Cooper is ranging or Bella is working a patch of briars. Bella is seems was used to bells and would wear a pink tutu if it meant she was going hunting. Coop’s first reaction to a bell was pure fright. He was afraid to move fear that the jingle emanating from around his neck would cause dire consequences. He soon learned the clank of the bell meant time in the field hunting. I now need to handle the bells as if they were highly explosive. The slightest clank or tinkle and the dogs are on me. Since it is the time of jingle bells and the art of having dogs is about compromise, Ms. Deborah thought the two gun dogs would look cute in festive gear. The dogs immediately thought grouse or pheasant was in the near future, but the stereophonic collars with the jingle jangle only meant a steady stream of holiday well-wishers and food the likes not seen all year. Coop and Bella liked the collars and minced pie. At least they didn’t have to wear a silly hat or eat fruit cake.
A few days ago mother nature dumped a heck of a lot of snow here. I figure it was about 2 feet or just high enough to chill a GSP's belly. Cooper is like a kid and loves the snow. Bella is more reserved and prefers to keep her paws on dry ground. So what do you do with two dogs that are wound up? Shovel and shovel some more. I dug a path from our house to the main road, which is about 100 yards. And these two used the path as their own private drag strip nudging each other into the banks. Eventually we cleared the snow off the entire driveway and their new trick is to run like bats out of hell up and down the 100 yard stretch. Cooper was on the scent of something and plowed through the snow, more like leaped through the snow. But he's still a kid and kids like snow.
Since this is only the second season that I have hunted over Cooper and Bella I notice a few things that needed attention. They work great, locking and holding point until I flush the bird. The problem I saw most this season was fetching or the lack there of. At fun trials they both refused to pick up the bird an retrieve it. I have seen dogs do this with woodcock and it is thought that the woodcock’s diet of worms maybe distasteful to dogs. These were downed pheasant they refused to retrieve and I’m not sure if they refused on grounds they were pointers and nowhere in the pointer definition does it say retriever. Perhaps they thought it beneath themselves. Regardless, they were going to retrieve. To a canvas dummy I tied real pheasant feathers and doused the canvas with scent. I then had the dogs sit and I opened their mouths and placed the dummy inside, while I praised them profusely. I then continued by playing a game, ironically called “fetch,” that involved me throwing the dummy a few yards away and me speaking the command “fetch.” They took the game quickly and retrieved the dummy without haste. From there I placed the dummy in the field and told them to find the bird. They pointed and held the point until I could flick the dummy in the air to the sound of blanks. They ran over to retrieve the bird and placed it at my feet. I think we may have cured or rather taught them how to retrieve.
There is an expression in NASCAR racing called “trading paint.” With my two GSPs I would slightly modify it to “trading fur.” If you read this blog you know that Bella, Cooper (Coop for short) and I regularly hike one of the land trust parcels in our town. The idea is not so much to teach or reinforce hunting technique but more to burn off the excess energy these two have. A borough of New York City could run off the energy from these two. Part of their land trust ritual is to sit and stay at the entrance of the hiking trail. They whine and fidget until I motion them to go or give two quick blasts from the whistle. I always make sure there are no unsuspecting hikers before I give the signal since the trail is as wide as a runway model’s hips and I’d hate to see two German Shorthairs plowing into a neighbor or the town selectman. Paw prints usually don’t leave a permanent mark but I fear some poor unsuspecting nature lover would be tattooed by these two. Bella and Coop are so competitive that they race each other down the path of the open bowl and blast their way into the hardwood canopy. 
By the time I’m half way through the bowl, they are looping back to see me. I think they are afraid I might get lost. Then they bolt right back out under the hardwood canopy zig-zagging across the trail. I smile to think of bushed, resting dogs when we return home. I’m unsure when the gash on Coop happened. Not a whine, whimper or peep from him the entire hike which is a few miles. Ms. Deborah noticed the cut as she toweled them off and checked for ticks. Eleven stitches later the vet recommended no land trust hikes for two weeks. Ever try keeping a GSP quiet and calm for two weeks? I could solve the recession and economic woes of our country easier. Is it two weeks yet?
The 
I thought it appropriate in this election year that we should discuss house breaking your gun dog. If your dog is part of your family and lives under your roof, house breaking is the first bit of training your gun pup needs. One dandy trick is to have the litter do their business on newspaper. This trains them from day one what newspapers are for. When we brought Cooper home I asked for a bit of soiled newspaper, which didn’t cost a cent extra. Back at home I placed the well-used newsprint outside where I wanted Cooper to go and he got the idea right off. The trick is too watch your pup closely so you can tell when he needs to relive himself, and then take him to the door and out to his newspaper. So you might ask what is the connection between house breaking dogs and election year politics? Well it all depends on what newspaper you want your gun pup to pee on. If you are liberal you might want your pointer weeing on the Wall Street Journal, maybe the Chicago Tribune or The Philadelphia Inquirer. If you have a conservative bent then the Boston Globe, Washington Post or New York Times should be your retriever’s newspaper of choice. Let us know what newspaper suits your dog's business.
I have a grizzled old hunting partner who had a young dog—I won’t mention the breed of his dog for fear my hunting partner disown me. Well my partner thought a year-old pup would be fine for the upcoming pheasant season and come fall the young dog was excited as all get out. She also forgot the reason we were dressed in blaze orange and proceeded to romp through the grassy fields chasing butterflies. Why do I mention this embarrassing incident and potentially have a hunting partner divorce me? Two reasons. One is not to take a gun pup out in the field too soon. Make sure your pup knows who to take his cues from (that would be you). When your pup does make his or her debut make sure you can control their behavior. A pup with flopping ears chasing butterflies is embarrassing to the dog’s owner and his hunting buddies at the very least, but it could also lead to a lost dog since everyone’s concentration is on the brushy edges and birds. The second reason is that the state of 
We felt compelled on adopting a female because they get take the brunt of the abuse at puppy mills forced to produce litter after litter, until they are no longer needed for profit. We signed up at the GSP resuse website and began our search. Very soon we began to read the stories of these dogs and wanted to adopt all of them. As all rescue stories can break your heart so will Bella’s. Here’s her story…
For starters, we were told she was 5 when her true age is at least 7. This was found out through what paperwork we had been given. Her eyes truly tell her life story. We had her groomed almost immediately due to her strong odor, and they needed to bathe her twice, and yet she still smelled. The groomer also informed us that her ears were “atrocious” and her nails were “horrendous.” Since we have bathed her twice more, and the odor is better, but surprisingly still present. Medically, she was in need of 4 vaccines, one of which she was never given. Bella was underweight to the point where her rib cage was fully visible and the the bumps of her spine showed down her back. She gained 4 pounds within the first week with us, a little more weight the next week, and now is back to a healthy weight. Unfortunately, she was never given any heartworm medication her entire life and is lucky to be alive since she was kenneled outside for many years.
She came to us with having hookworm, lyme, anxiety, and conjunctivitis. She is being medicated for all along with follow-ups. She may also need to have a one of her canine teeth removed soon because it is cracked. Apparently, the cracked tooth happened a year ago when she sustained major injuries by chewing through a wire kennel, and escaping because she was left alone and like most GSP can have a high level of anxiety. She chewed and pushed her body through the wire fencing and is scarred from her belly down her right leg. The injury was severe and her hair will never grow back in certain areas.
Her teeth were very yellow and were never cared for either. It’s amazing that in a short time what better dog food, greenies, and rawhides can do! Her teeth have already come along way, not to mention her level of security, affection, and her upbeat personality.
Despite all these issues, she is very lovable and known to be a great bird dog. She has pointed several times on our acreage as well as on walks. And as far as Cooper is concerned, she’s a keeper!
I am absolutely convinced that nature has a sense of humor. On a recent trek through the land trust Cooper and I encountered a tree felled by a beaver. There’s nothing really unusually about that especially since the land trust has a beaver pond within its boundaries. And the tree was a hardwood so common in these parts I don’t remember if it was oak, ash or maple. The thing that made me laugh out loud was what was on the tree.
One of the worst feelings I have ever experienced was when our pup, Cooper, went missing for 30 hours. He’s only a pup, despite the fact he’s a hunting dog. I had so many mixed emotions at the time, but the one that stood out the most was fear. Especially due to the frigid temperatures below zero and wind gusts to 35 mph. Cooper has always demonstrated joy with all human interactions; he’s really a social butterfly. But, the oil-delivery man frightened him off. The oil-delivery man has been known to scare us a bit, too, with the bills he leaves behind. We concluded that the loud noise from the truck in addition to the long awkward hose and approaching man spooked Cooper. Coop had been on the porch at the time taking it all in and then in an instant he bolted through the invisible fence and took off
So you have decided you want a hunting dog. You’ve researched the breeds and determined the type suitable for your lifestyle and hunting interests. Now the real search begins. Buying a dog is a lot buying a shotgun. They run from darn cheap to super expensive. They also can ride a wave that causes premium prices at peaks in interest. Have a budget in mind because once you start calling breeders you might have sticker shock not to mention you may loose interest over the wait time for a pup. The shock will come from the dog’s pedigree or bloodlines. And bloodlines is the one thing you want to invest in when buying a dog. Cooper’s family hails from Alabama and lest you think I am Southern agnostic this Yankee does visit the south regularly especially this time of year to flee the snow. Cooper’s mom and dad as well as grandparents have hunting in their blood. Looking at Cooper’s family tree there are field champions (FC) and national field champion (NFC) winners with names like NFC GK's Playing For Keeps and FC LB's Oh! Miss Goodbye. Here’s the part were I say you get what you pay for. You buy a cheap shotgun it performs as a cheap shotgun will. I know a hunter who has hunted with a Fox/Stevens side-by-side since Hector was a pup. He paid less for that gun than he would a Starbucks venti today. It works for him, but that may not be true for you. My recommendation is if you want a real hunter with a nose and desire to hunt look to the bloodlines and peel a few more dead presidents from that wad for the breeder. Bloodlines aren’t the end all and be all—it’s a lot like looking at the past performance of your mutual funds and is more of an indicator of what you might expect. Too bad there isn’t a Morning Star type rating for gun dogs. Enter stage right Quail Ridge Kennel in Stafford Springs, CT. Steve Hopko has been breeding GSPs for over 30 years, he knows a thing or two about these dogs. I spoke with Steve over the phone before making the journey to CT/MA border and once I saw the adult dogs interact with Steve, I had a good feeling. Steve’s dogs love and respect him. I knew he was no pipe man. Not a wince nor flinch from any of the dogs. And the pups—well Cooper is proof I was convinced Quail Ridge Kennels was the way to go. I could have paid more but with Cooper I was looking for a hunting partner. I’m not looking for field trial trophies. Of course you might be lucky and raise a real hunter from a mixed litter. I’ve had luck with mixed litters but the operative word is luck. If you are interested in Quail Ridge Kennel’s GSPs, send an email and I’ll get you in touch with Steve.
This year’s PF's 
His name is Cooper, Coop for short. A house is really a home when you have a dog, and anyone who has ever had the pleasure of rearing a hunting dog knows this best. With a hunting dog there is a more of a partnership between owner and dog, unlike with non-sporting breeds. When the talk in my house turned to dogs it took some persuading that a hunting dog would be a good idea. I have experience with gun dogs and in particular German Shorthair Pointers or GSPs. I knew their personalities and abilities. When you are at the stage of making a decision on what breed to choose it makes a pile of sense to do some research. The 
You must has seen the newest dog event where dogs take a running jump off a 40-foot dock into a huge pool of water to retrieve a floating object. The events are sponsored by 
When I was a boy and a member of the Boy Scouts of America we participated in annual Klondike Derby. It was the closest to the Iditarod any of us would get—minus the dogs. In fact, we were the dogs pulling a sledge to various outdoor skill stations like compass orienteering, knot tying, winter survival, etc. The reason I bring this up is that the official start of the Iditarod is today at 10:00 a.m. in Anchorage, Alaska. Go to the