I've heard it said that every hunter only has one wonderful dog as a hunting partner in his or her lifetime! I was fortunate to have shared that experience with my Dad!
Jack was a beagle pup when he came into our life. A friend of Dad's was moving out of state and couldn't take Jack with him so he asked Dad if he would take him. Dad hesitated until I got into the conversation. You see, Dad had just losed a hunting dog and wasn't sure he was ready for another and with me just getting started in hunting, he new he would have two pups to train! Dad finally agreed to take Jack and time would tell that that ended up to be a great decision!
Dad had to teach me respect for the dog and to watch his every move. I had to be extra careful when shooting and to always know where Jack was. Jack had to learn how to hunt with us and what was expected from him! That first season was a basic getting to know each other. I was only 10 years old so I just loved to play with Jack as a pet and this all helped in developing a true friendship!
I was able to bag my second rabbit, of my young life, as a result of Jack. Dad, Jack and I were out back of our house one morning late in the season. Jack put out a rabbit and was running a hot trail. Dad had taught me to look ahead of the dog for the rabbit. I was standing in front of an opening in the woods and listening to Jack when I saw the rabbit coming through the woods. As luck would have it, the rabbit stopped straight out in front of me and stood up on it's back hunches to listen for Jack. Dad was directly behind me, back about 15 yards and he had also saw the rabbit but was waiting for me to make my move! I slowly raised my .410 single and pulled back the hammer. I squeezed off the shot and the rabbit just fell over! Dad told me to wait for Jack to find the rabbit to see how he would respond to it since this was his first rabbit with us! Needless to say, things couldn't have gone better!
As the years progressed Jack just got better and better and so did I! We really worked well as a team. Jack learned to watch where we were and to hunt for us not for himself! It didn't matter how many hunters were in our group, jack kept his eye on all of us and managed to hunt in front of the whole group. I would often see him stop and look back or if he was in tall cover he would jump to make sure he knew where everyone was at! That dog would work his heart out for us!
We tried hunting Jack with other dogs but he refused to share the field with a competitor and would some how find a way to take the other dog out of our hunting zone and return by himself! He thought he was the only dog needed for the hunt and he was always right. If Jack went into an area of cover and then came back out you could be certain that there wasn't anything there!
He was so good at listening to us, we could actually call him off a hot rabbit trail if we needed to. There were a couple of times when he took off after fox and when we realized what he was chasing, just a whistle and a call was all that was needed!
Jack never ceased to amaze us. We were out one morning and I jumped a rooster pheasant. I took a shot but missed, then Dad shot and hit the bird and it came down running. We were in a large briar patch at the time. We hunted all over for that bird with no luck. There was an old shed in the area and Jack went under there only to jump out a rabbit. I saw it go and swung on it, shot and send it rolling. Jack came out from under the shed, went over to the rabbit and checked it down, looked up at me as if to say "Good Job", then he disappeared. After I field dressed the rabbit we started to wonder what had happened to Jack. We started calling him and after a few minutes I saw him coming back through the near by woods. He was acting strange. He was staggering, stopping, backing up, turning sideways when he approached any brush. He came upon two trees that were about a foot apart then stopped. He then turned his head sideways and tried walking between the trees. This is when I saw he had something in his mouth. As he got closer we discovered he was carrying the pheasant that Dad had knocked down! Jack brought the bird right up to Dad's feet and dropped it and then sat down as if to rest! Dad wanted to pick Jack up and carry him the rest of the day!
After that day Jack started to retrieve all our game. He would go into thick brush piles that we were sure we would have to tear apart to get him out. I hit a grouse one day and like the pheasant, it came down running. I called Jack to the area. He winded the scent and took off. It was only a minute of two and I heard a commotion around a fence row and got there in time to see Jack with a mouth full of tail feathers, pulling the grouse away from a groundhog hole, with the grouse beating the living daylights out of Jack with it's wings. Jack just closed his eyes and kept pulling away from that hole!
Jack was the only true hunting dog that I ever hunted with. Dad and I buried Jack behind our house one morning after his fight for life had ran out. I was 21 years old and had had a great hunting experience with a great dog!
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