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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Well-Trained Setter Performed Skillfully

Mary Sagal Correspondent

A late fall wind carrying the first bite of winter ruffled the fur and tugged at the blaze-orange nylon of the three female hunters.

Standing streamside while they prepared for the hunt, the two women and the English setter all experienced an adrenaline rush.

For the woman who owned the dog, there was excitement and a little trepidation over testing her field skills - and those of her dog - alone. Usually, the woman hunted with her life partner, a woodsman of considerable skill. This day, she was on her own.

For the English setter, there was the anticipation of birds in the brush, feathered cannons to stoically point until her owner flushed them and fired, hopefully downing a quail or a pheasant or a Hungarian partridge for her to retrieve.

For the other woman there was rediscovering predation after a three-year absence from hunting. There was learning again which size shell to load and adjusting to the weight of a shotgun in her arms.

The dog eyed her owner as the woman loaded shot shells into the cylindrical holders in her orange vest, gathered the whistle she would use to signal the dog to come and prepared the shock collar the dog would wear.

The woman cooed to the English setter as she removed her from the portable kennel. She buckled on the shock collar as the dog pressed against her in almost uncontrollable excitement.

The collar, she explained to the other woman, was to prevent the dog from chasing deer and to stop her from running onto a nearby road, should she wander that way while obsessed with finding birds.

The rules for the collar were fair: If the dog did not come after the whistle sounded three separate times, the dog would receive a jolt from the collar.

The dog was well-trained. All afternoon it came when called, even when ranging far ahead of the hunters. The shock collar was never used.

Finding birds is what pointing breeds do. It’s their job. Immediately upon being released from her carrying crate, the English setter went to work.

She started in a nearby ravine, ranging about 100 yards out from the hunters. Finding no game birds there, she spent a few minutes chasing songbirds, then headed up a ridge.

Within minutes she was on point. Tail out, body rigid, she stared down a covey of Hungarian partridge huddled in the grass until the hunters flushed the birds and took their shots.

They missed.

The dog started to work again, ranging across the rugged scabland country just exactly as she was born to do.

Then she went on point again, her long, feathery, tri-colored fur flowing as she held tight.

But the hunters were confused. Whatever she was pointing was not in the area the covey had flushed to. It was the hunters’ turn to quake with anticipation. What was the dog pointing this time?

A soft boom exploded from the grass as the hunters approached, the frantic wing beats of a rooster pheasant as it fled the scene. Once again, the hunters missed their shot.

With the afternoon sun creeping low, the trio made one last attempt to find the partridge covey. They combed the ridge top again, slowly. On one of their last sweeps the English setter went on point.

The hunters flushed the covey, fired and missed.

As they headed back to the car they praised the dog. She had done her job well that day.

xxxx A calendar of dog events is published as needed. If you’d like a dog event publicized write: Mary Sagal, Spokesman-Review features section, P.O. Box 2160, Spokane, WA 99210.