I haven't had a lot of time lately to write -- hunting (and packing for hunting trips) has happily cramped my style. Here's a pictoral update on my exploits afield.
|I'm the chosen one, bitches!|
By popular vote, Dottie got the call for the first upland hunt of the 2010 season, a Kansas prairie chicken quest. Thankfully, the girl didn't skip a beat. She covered ground nicely and didn't appear to be as out of shape as I had feared. In fact, she pointed the first bird killed on the trip. You can even see the zippered scar on her belly. It blows my mind at how quickly the canine body can recover.
Learned: a sealed bag of Art & Mary's Jalapeno Kettle Chips, placed in close proximity to a dog crate on a long road trip, can be opened and eaten remotely. I'm not sure who the thief was, and the suspects aren't talking.
Speaking of suspects, the only shots I can get of LuLu are when she's chained to a tie-out stake:
Vegas was solid too. And when it got too hot in the afternoons to walk the hills in search of chickens, she pulled double duty as a dove retriever. She didn't seem to mind.
It was the maiden prairie chicken hunting trip for Terry, a Minnesota native who was more accustomed to tight grouse woods than open, hilly prairies.
But the eight or so miles of walking each day was usually rewarded.
Tomorrow, I'm off to Montana for two weeks in even bigger country. And to think -- today is only the first day of fall.