Gun Dog Tales: Fact and Otherwise

 After rearing, training and hunting behind gun dogs for about a half-century, I thought I had seen, or at least heard of, pretty much everything our four-legged friends are capable of doing. Then, I saw something new. While hunting with a couple of friends on a private shooting preserve, a quail flushed in front of one of the other hunters. The man snapped off a shot but hit nothing but air as the bird winged through the upper branches in a thick stand of pines. I noted that the quail didn’t come out on the other side and commented that it might have landed in a tree, not unheard-of among liberated birds. We didn’t give it much thought and continued to hunt in another direction.

About a half-hour later, we had swung around and were making our way back through the pines when I saw my young setter, who was racing through the trees, skid to a halt. Her rigid posture and upright tail signaled a point but she was looking upward at a 45 degree angle. Following her gaze, we searched the limbs and – lo and behold – up there, among the pine cones, sat a quail. Harley was pointing a bird sitting a good twenty feet over her head, in dense vegetation.

How the heck did she do it? How did she know that quail was there? She couldn’t have spotted it by sight, especially on a dead run. We had a hard time finding it when we stood there and looked for a few moments. It had to have been by scent. But, from that far up? Besides, scent usually rises.

As much as we mulled over it, my fellow hunters and I couldn’t come up with a plausible explanation for the setter’s feat. But later, as we sat around on the deck of the hunting camp and toasted the day and the dog work, the conversation turned to other remarkable things we have heard of hunting dogs doing. Gradually, the sun got lower, the refreshments got sweeter and the tales ranged farther and farther, finally emerging on the other side of credibility.

One story was about a man who owned a Labrador Retriever that could talk. Hoping to cash in on his pup’s unique skill, he took the animal to a talent scout and explained, “This dog can speak English.” The agent seemed to be unimpressed but figured he’d humor the man. “Alright, let’s see what he can do.”

“Okay, Sport,” the dog’s owner said, “What’s on the top of a house?”

“Roof!” the Lab replied.

“Oh, come on,” the talent agent responded. “All dogs go ‘roof.’”

“No, wait,” the man said. He turned to the dog and asked, “What does sandpaper feel like?”

“Rough!” the dog answered.

The talent agent gave the two of them a look of disgust and started to rise.

“No, hang on,” the dog’s owner said. “This one will amaze you.” He turned and asked his dog, “Who, in your opinion, was the greatest baseball player of all time?”

“Ruth!” answered the Lab.

The talent scout, having seen enough, booted them out of his office and onto the street. There, the dog turned to his owner and said, “Maybe I shoulda said DiMaggio?”

Another tale described a dog with an amazing talent. A man walked into a bar with a small Boykin Spaniel and asked for a drink.

“We don’t allow dogs in here,” the bartender growled. “Get out.”

The man with the dog replied, “But, this isn’t just any dog, he can play the piano!”

“Well, if he can play that piano over there, you can both stay – and have a drink on the house,” the bartender responded.

The man sat his dog on the piano stool and the little fellow started playing. Ragtime, classical, country – he could do it all. The bartender and the other patrons were flabbergasted. Suddenly a bigger Boykin ran in, grabbed the small dog by the scruff of the neck, and dragged him out of the bar.

The bartender asked, “What was that all about?”

The dog’s owner replied, “Oh, that was his mother. She wanted him to be a dentist.”

Not to be outdone, I passed along the story a fellow once told me about a mixed hound he had when he was a young boy. The dog was incredibly perceptive. If he saw the boy or his dad take the .22 rifle down and head into the woods, the dog would take off and tree squirrels like his life depended on it. If one of the hunters started out with his 20 gauge shotgun, he’d trail rabbits like the best beagle in the county – and run right past squirrels while doing it. Whenever he saw one of them with the 12 gauge, he would turn into a deer hound, ignoring all other game while he brought a whitetail through the woods!

The boy was amazed by the dog. He was also a little intimidated, sensing that the hound felt like he was smarter than his human partners. One day, the lad decided to put him to a test. He came out of the house, called the dog out from under the porch, and started walking down a path toward the creek. When he got there, he pulled out his pocket knife and cut a long sapling. The dog sat there watching, a puzzled look on his face. Then, the boy reached in his pocket, pulled out a length of fishing line with a cork and hook attached and started tying it to the end of the pole. The hound wrinkled his brow, tilted his head first one way and then the other, and then jumped up and took off back toward the house.

“Aha,” the lad thought. “I’ve gotten the best of him this time, he’s all confused. He ain’t as smart as he thinks he is.”

As he began untying the line, the boy looked up to see his dog coming back down the path with something in his mouth. As he got closer, the lad could tell what it was – a can of worms!

Talking dogs, musical dogs, dogs that are smarter than young’uns – every hunter has heard such yarns and probably some that are a lot taller, and maybe a little wider. But, a bird dog that points quail way up in a tree is the gospel truth. And, unlike some of the other tales, I have witnesses to prove it.