Calvin's Baptism to Ducks - Background Story

Bringing home a new baby is an indescribable experience. You know and learn love. You also get an entirely new appreciation for worry. I'd say the experience is not terribly different when you bring home a puppy. So much affection, excitement, and hope springs from this fluffy mound of fur, teeth, tails, yips, and barks.

When we brought Calvin home from that farm outside of southern Minnesota, my boys were 8 and 5. That first, frosty, half-moon February night, they argued as to who would sleep with him in the crate! Calvin was a quick learner, and probably the easiest dog I've ever trained. Maybe it's the breed. My previous dog, a loving black lab was sharp. Training him to a fine water dog, and pheasant maestro was a true achievement in my hunting cap, but Calvin was so quick. So obedient.

As I shared in the last blog post, Calvin was being groomed for pheasant. My time afield was a tricky dance with the boys both in activities, and my job responsibilities. Plus, I was pretty sure neither boy was chomping at the bit to get up at 3:00 a.m. to put on cold waders, and push off into a November gale to be peppered by wind, water, ice, and snow for a bird. I was more apt to push through a field or two after school close to home, then get everything ready for a marsh hunt. The boys tolerated the fields. Although Calvin wouldn't bring the pheasant to my hand after that first year, he would stand right on top of them until I came. I figured we'd work out that kink next year.

In Calvin's second season, his hips prevented him from making the hard push. His drive was so strong to hunt, it just killed me. Had we picked a bad line? Calvin had become more than a hunting and running buddy. He was a family member, and was struggling. Later that summer, we were enjoying a weekend of camping along the south shore of Gitchigami. I couldn't keep Calvin out of the water. It was then, I decided to dust off the decoys, organize the gear, and see if that pup could do a duck dance! After talking with the vet and a couple months of daily glucosamine, it was time.

The 2015 opener found me in a terribly anxious state. I couldn't hit the marsh. Too many people, and I didn't know how Calvin would perform. Can I hit anything? Should I call up my buddy, the Angry Dane, and see if he wants to team up? Where should we try? I had three places in mind, and got up early. All were all loaded with people. I settled on plan D... a solo run.

The temperature in Western Wisconsin that opening Saturday was nearing 80 degrees. I decided to try a slough which connected to a creek which connected with a local river. The fact that it was nearly a mile march to get to the spot, and carrying all the gear solo found me wondering what in the world I was doing.

As Calvin and I slowly plodded through the tall grasses, we came to the crest of a rise. From this vantage, I could see a rim of hardwood poplars, elms, and oak surrounding the bowl. The slough pushed its way through the field, and went around an island of pine. I put down the gear, sipped some water, and while pouring my furry buddy a drink we heard mallards feeding and calling. I hadn't heard such sweet music in nearly seven years!

Immediately I shouldered the decoy bag, ammo box, chair, and shotgun and put my game-face on. Calvin sensed that the hunt was on. He watched me and responded accordingly. Tail straight, and following closely, we moved forward.

As we neared the slough, the sounds, sights, and smells of the marsh assaulted my senses. I know it's crazy, but it was like visitng Target Field or Miller Park, minus the fresh-cut grass, popcorn, and hotdogs. No, we were well encased in cattails, saw grass, lily pads, mud, muck, and mosquitos. The hum of the insects, and the heat of near mid-day sun was powerful. I noticed a point jutting out with some osier bushes and a good pine tree for cover. I thought, this looks like a good place to build the blind.

I'll never forget how excited Calvin was to "help" me set the decoys. I only brought about a dozen, but they were so special. They were the decoys the Angry Dane and I bought in 2001, right before my oldest was born. Lord it felt right to put them back where they wanted to be.

As the noon hour approached, I took a moment to just take it all in. The colors of late summer, the hint of autumn just beginning to show in the dusty colored green of the trees. It wouldn't be long before nature's show would be in full swing. Just then, looking to the north, a pair were making their way. I hesitated to call. They were on a string, but not looking at my spread. Were they low enough to risk a shot? No. Too high. No sky busting for me today. I was hoping to get them to land in the decoys. Wouldn't that just be the perfect way to get back into duck hunting?

After the ducks flew over, I gave a comeback call, or some derivation of it. The pair of mallards, never even blinked. They were headed to the southern corner, nearer the creek. Even so, we were hunting. Calvin whined, and looked at me. I knew he understood something big was happening, but would he retrieve a duck?

Not long after, a single mallard was nearing on a similar line. I gave a quick feeding call, and it banked a touch towards the spread to give it the once-over. As the mallard made that first pass, I knew it wasn't interested in looking again. I was trying hard to see green, but was having a devil of a time with it. The moment of truth was fast approaching. I put a bead just ahead of the olive bill, and squeezed. All seemed to happen as in a movie action sequence. The duck tumbled through the air, and landed... no bounced two feet from Calvin near the tree line. He looked to the feathered animal on the ground, took two puppy steps, and sat on that mallard and looked me in the eye. I swear, he was smiling!

No other birds were to be fooled from that place that opening day, but the feeling was impossible to quantify. There was no other eloquence to make it sound any different. This just felt right! Sure Calvin may not have officially made a retrieve, but he now knew duck. I tried tossing it in the water a few times to see if he'd go after it like the trainers. He was still a pup. Even so, this felt like church!