An exciting page-turner that you can’t put down is a good find. Having the time to actually pick one up and give it the proper attention is even better. 

A captivating read will keep your focus at every moment. Mostly these experiences are sandwiched between two hard (or soft) covers, but my favorite reads involve four legs moving furiously through covers.

Yes, running a gundog is like thumbing through your favorite book.

Reading a dogs ears can signal a bird nearby or the remnants of old scent. The speed of the tail wag will clue you into a running rooster or a sneaky cottontail. The quickness of their gait is the telltale sign of an oncoming flush. It’s up to you to read the signs.

Despite their short lifespans, our four-legged companions find a way to nuzzle themselves into our lives, becoming family members, hunting partners, road trip buddies and security systems. They become so ingrained in our daily routines that you don’t realize how in sync you are. You can just read their body language and know what they want.

A few years ago, someone created a meme that said, “We are like elves to dogs. In the dog world, humans are elves who routinely live to be 500+ years old.”

While this was an interesting perspective on the dog year vs human year hypothesis, my reality was that I was seeing myself age as my dog aged. I know she should pass long before I do, but I can’t help but notice the graying around her muzzle increasing as more salt peppers my beard. 

The 2020 season began dimly with an injury to my almost ten-year-old lab, Mika. She fell out of the truck after hunting on the dove opener on September 1st. Suddenly I was going to be without my dog for at least 4-6 weeks.

I had tried to prepare myself for a season without her. Selfishly, I hoped for a speedy recovery because the two of us had that connection that takes years to build. Hours in the backyard as a puppy and then day after day in the field as she got older. The two of us learning how to read each other. Working through the mistakes and celebrating the successes. Now when I push my arms through an orange vest, Mika knows exactly what we’re going to do. 

She knows what the game is. She can decipher birdy cover from a waste of time. If the wind is right, she can pinpoint where the roosters are sitting. I can tell where they’re going to fly once they get up. If we can time it just right, we can be unstoppable in the field. 

At least that’s what I tell myself. 

If that were completely true, I’d be coming home with limits each time and, in reality, that’s not what’s happening. That is the case with hunting though, it’s not all about killing. The real benefits are the exercise that we’re getting, along with the adrenaline rush of picking apart a property, knowing what time of day each bit of cover will get used and strategizing the best approach. 

I can hunt an entire section with flushes, shots, and retrieves without saying a word. Since Mika isn’t a pointer, she might chase a bird that flushes out of range, but that’s her job. She has tracked down more wounded runners than my pride cares to admit, so it’s hard to stop her when she’s got that nose down to the ground and her tail whipping sideways. If I see her trot transition to a sprint, I just try to keep up. 

That isn’t always ideal with a group of hunters, but the majority of my hunts are solo, so I can follow the nose wherever it goes. Most of the time, the nose doesn’t lie if you know how to read it. 

Mika sat out for 8 weeks after that injury in 2020. I’m not sure who was in more pain, me or her. I was grateful for the opportunity to hunt with friends and their dogs during her absence, but it’s just not the same.  

On her first hunt back, I was thankful for obvious reasons, but maybe it was because there was the potential for that hunt to be the last. Just like the many hunts before, I found myself in a familiar position, eyes locked on her, watching the words leap off the page.

I’ve been guilty of stepping into a badger hole because my focus is on the yellow dog weaving her way through thick cover. But if you pay close enough attention to your dog, they’ll become as easy to read as the latest best-seller, giving you a lifetime of material without one visit to the library. 

Unfortunately for us, Mika may have seen her last hunt. After a few short walks in 2023, including beating my younger lab, Tiny, to the last bird of the season, three out of the dog’s four legs have slowed her enough to put this old novel on the shelf. There’s a chance she gets at least one or two easy hunts yet this year if she wants – I guarantee I’ll give her the opportunity – but this ol’ girl might been finally destined for retirement.

You can watch some of her adventures, including the injury I referenced earlier in this recent Raising Tiny episode, available on the Fish Hunt Forever YouTube Channel here: