Weekend before last, Brad Carter and I loaded the dogs and headed back to the Panhandle. We hunted in a cool drizzle Friday afternoon. The dogs found a couple of coveys, and we took a few birds while Cate howled in her box. We got back to the truck just before dark and let her out. While Jack and Maggs drank from a windmill tank, Cate jumped in and paddled around. Then, of course, she had to go back in her box soaking wet.
Next morning, we hunted in the rain. I topped a hill south in the river and felt a warm breeze out of the South. Sure enough, the rain stopped and the temperature rose. By mid afternoon, we were sweating and the dogs' tongues were dragging. Still, we managed to move a few coveys. Cate got acquainted with sand burs.
Jack, Brad's French Brittany, points a covey beneath a cedar.
Brad waters Jack from a canteen. We tease Jack about looking like a little bear. He doesn't seem to mind.
We moved a few more coveys Sunday morning. A good hunt, all in all. Maggs held up well - her paw seems fine. The plains got some much-needed moisture, and we took home a few birds. We're not covered up with quail this year, but I'd say we have plenty.
2 comments:
Nice report and great picture "on point"! A good ways southwest of you, and in farm country, we bumped several very nice (fifteen birds or better) coveys of bobwhites while pheasant hunting.
Thanks, Mike. I'm not surprised by the big coveys you bumped. Some years, the South Plains have incredible numbers of bobwhites - even though the region is technically the western fringe of bobwhite range.
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