Tuesday, September 22, 2009


Would you go hunting with this guy? Shorthair owner/ politician, has more lines of B.S. than any fisherman, logger or attorney all piled together. I will need to do some splainin' here. He takes "Tavern Granny" on a overniter to bird camp. You just know he is sucking up for another undeserved pointer trinket. Notice he is sporting his new Single Tin Filsons. He was always bashing me for being a "Filson Man".
Any way this is bird camp for this year, Trout streams close by and plenty of pecker pole popple to hunt in.
Pointers seem to like him though as well as the folks at our watering hole, the Nimrod.
The Judge

Monday, September 21, 2009

Tales of the Big Mean White Dog

Tales of the Big Mean White Dog

My 9 year old pointer Frieda is very vocal and has always been a bit of a Prima Donna. She also isn’t hesitant to throw down with another dog which ended up putting her in a portable kennel a lot when she was younger. On one occasion two hunters stopped their truck by the side of the road to chat with us and she started barking loudly and aggressively at them. Later at the Nimrod, we saw the same two hunters and one said to the other ‘those are the guys with the Big Mean White Dog.’ What can I say, she is an Alpha female. She has mellowed considerably with age and we don’t have problems with her anymore. Every once in a while we still refer to her as the Big Mean White Dog.

This past weekend my partner in crime, the Judge, had to work. My wife wanted to go camping. I wanted to get out in the woods. My wife is a dog lover so we took the two Pointers and our Golden Retriever up to where we have the Bellagio parked. The Golden actually works pretty well for a flushing dog though she runs out of gas pretty quick and the young pointer is just a little over a year so I didn’t anticipate a highly successful outing. My wife is a photography buff so she hoped to get some pictures. Worst case scenario; the woods are beautiful this time of year even with the foliage just starting to turn color. We saw some birds and got a couple of points. The pup backed up the Big Mean White Dog on one occasion. The birds either were flushed by the retriever out of sight or just flushed where getting even a chance at a shot was impossible.

The most interesting thing happened when we made a push down in this little hole by a river. Beaver had put a fresh dam in sometime over the summer; the area has always held a few birds and I wanted to show my wife the dam. She had never seen one and I wanted to get her the opportunity for some pictures. As it was hot out the dogs all dove in the water when we got close. They were upstream of the dam where the current was slow and they ended up covered in the black smelly silt we like to call Loon Shit up here. I directed them downstream of the dam where I knew the bottom would be cleaner and the pup and the retriever dove in. The current was a little faster and the bank a little steeper and the pup failed at her first attempt to get out. She ended up going under water and then the current got her. She doesn’t have that much experience swimming and she started to panic. My wife not knowing that the water would be shallow a short ways downstream also panicked. Enter the Big Mean White dog. Frieda jumped in the water, swam out to the downstream side of the pup, and herded her to the shore. She acted like it was all in a day’s work. I love that Big Mean White Dog.

This is the shallow side it dropped off steeply on the other edge.


The Gizzard Song

The Gizzard Song
The opener was beastly hot. We got fleeting glimpses of a few birds and tossed up a few shots that were more prayer guided than aimed. I personally owe the County for some stumpage because I don’t think those popple are going to grow very well without tops. The heat required resting the dogs more often than usual.
So we are sitting at our favorite Up North Marinette County watering hole, the Nimrod and two ladies are sitting next to my longtime hunting partner, The Judge. They are looking at the menu and interested in some carry out. The Judge, always helpful, suggests the gizzards. The ladies tell him they don’t like gizzards. He says don’t make me sing you the Gizzard Song. They tell him ‘OK Sing us the gizzard song.’
Then he looks at me with this, I maybe had one too many shorties out of that last bucket look, help me Scooter. Like I’m supposed to, off the cuff, whip out a pitch pipe and write and perform this gizzard song. Ok, I saved his life once but writing a song takes a little more thought. I think he has come to expect a little much out of me. Here is the Gizzard song:

Gizzards Gizzards, those chewy tasty hunks of gut
Gizzards Gizzards, better than those fried sheep's nuts
Put em in a crock pot
Cook em all day
Sautéed with onions
All your Guests will say
Gizzards Gizzards, those chewy tasty hunks of gut
Gizzards Gizzards, better than those fried sheep's nuts
Best part of a chicken
Some will say
You can get them at the Rod
On Sunday
Gizzards Gizzards, those chewy tasty hunks of gut
Gizzards Gizzards, better than those fried sheep's nuts

I think I spoil the Boy.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Filson Waxin' Shorthairs & a Six Pack

Bird season opener is now only two days away. Weather is great, dogs are anxious and it's time to wax the double tins. Here is all you need to get it done. One six pack of your favorite swill, two German Shorthairs running around and trying to help and of course the wax. Rub the wax vigorously into the fabric, fronts first. When the beer is gone you are done. Works every time like a charm.
My lovely wife is conditioned to this fall procedure, yours may not be yet, never give up! At this point she is putting dishes together for our campsite dinners. Poor Nancy,(Tavern Granny) Scooters bride has raised the bar on numerous occasions to make our bird hunting trips more like a trip to a luxury resort, is more than likely out buying Scoot another undeserved bird hunting trinket.
Size only matters when your Woodcock Huntin'
The Judge

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

The Judge and the Shorthairs

This photo will never be on a magazine cover, but it does show our love for the sport.
Signed the Judge.

Grouse Season Opening

Here we go again, shorthairs, camping & chasing Grouse and Woodcock through the pecker pole Popple. Scooter went out and bought himself some Filsons, finally. Some people take a while to catch on. He bought the "Single Tins" which I refer to as the candy ass model. Camper is under a total cleaning as it is every season. Mice like to call it home in the winter months. Four pointers, two old beat up bird hunters and some refreshments in the North woods of Wisconsin, sounds like fun to me! We will soon be providing you with many humorous pictures of our escapades. We won't be telling you how to train your dog or which gun to use, what we will be telling you are real life adventures that should have you laughing. So stay tuned, and enjoy.