This is not a dog.
This is a nuclear-powered starship headed for another galaxy. It is only coincidence that brings her to earth where she will flush birds at high speed and low regard until she escapes from gravity and continues on her interstellar journey.
A covey of sharptails explodes like cosmic dust in front of her and for a moment, while their trajectory lines with her own, she gives chase. When they turn, she stays her course, occasionally leaping sage brush and other obstacles with the glee and grace of a cape wearing nine-year-old.
I watch her turn in a long loop, not because she is re-centering on me, but because she was running out of field and had no choice but to alter course.
“She’ll settle in,” I tell myself, just before she blasts through a covey of huns without so much as easing off the accellerator. A few days ago, she pointed a covey of huns so perfectly, so steady and confidently, that this disregard for her pointing accumen is startling to me.
I whistle her in and try to settle her down but when I turn her loose, I can already tell that she is going to make another break against the bounds of gravity.
So when she blows through another covey of sharpies then proceeds to flush two dozen pheasants one after another without even tapping the brakes, I know that last week was not a turning point, but an anomally.
And so we go home, back to the check chord.
Back to the blue grouse and the huns on the road, back to known birds, back to “whoa” in the garage and yard work.
Back to school for both of us, learning to pilot a rocket ship.
6 thoughts on “Lunatastrophe”
Been there…. I have always been a “birds first” kinda guy, with control later… but when you get a wild child you must improvise! Fire in the hole!!! Ha. Tim
Sounds like the propulsion systems are working fine. It’s guidance that’s less than nominal. Far too complex an operation to run manually, at least at optimal levels. Keep working through the process til the feedback loops learn to disregard the noise.
Don’t worry, you’re still ahead of the Russians. And the Chinese. For now.
I have taken my English Pointer puppy out on a hunt, only to have him disappear, and be found by another person miles away, and returned because his tag had my number on it. I had the same happen with an older English Pointer; gone for three days. Does the breed seems to have so much energy that it’s got to be reined in by shock collar, or shock cord? So, your problem seems rather mild by comparison. High energy, coupled with an insane level of prey drive, and you’ve got your hands full when you get in the field. Thanks for letting us know that even people fully involved in the ifestyle are still having these challenges!
Haha I love that comment Wingshot!
This makes me feel better about Saturday’s hunt with the pup.. Ran through and chased the biggest covey I’ve seen all year. Luckily she was out of range.