Calvin's First Retrieve - Background Story

Excitement carried on the warm September breezes. I shouldered the decoy bag, grabbed the old green Plano ammo box, and reached for the cased Remington. "Don't forget the soda's," yelled the Boy. His empty hands were fidgeting with the car windows. Heaven forbid he get off his rear and help out!

Calvin sat at full attention at the front door, watching my every move. He trembled with the excitement of another Western Wisconsin adventure, not knowing what he was in store for. None of us were, but plans had been made, arrangements set, and we had a meeting time to make.

We stowed the gear, double-checked the trailer tires, straps, and backed out the drive. An afternoon duck hunt was in motion, and we had the crew to meet. The plan was to meet off the park, and hit the main lake of the mini chain. The Angry Dane said the ducks had been seen pouring in the evening before. With that in mind, this afternoon's hunt was a reunion of sorts.

It was the Angry Dane who introduced me to duck hunting those many moons before. It was he who instigated this obsession, and fueled many a fire to get my lazy self up early. We were both without children when we first hunted. Today we both would bring our sons.

The Boy feigned interest. He was growing quickly, and wanted to prove he was "man" enough to handle hunting with the men. Secretly, he was quite gun-shy at the time, and not sure how he could manage that secret amongst the crew. His machismo won out over the fear though, and we continued down a mix of highways, side roads, and gravel. Autumn was just starting to turn the Maples to a blaze.

The afternoon was overcast, with low, gray clouds, yet I was sure the rain would hold off a few hours. As it was, the breeze was quite right, and the lack of shadows hopefully would not betray our outline to the ducks. Calvin tested the breeze, out the rear window, as we rounded the last bend of the road. The Angry Dane, and Mitchel were already parked awaiting our arrival.

"Sure took you pups long enough! Austrian, are you ever on time?" he barked at me. Austrian is a term of endearment from the Angry Dane.

"I'm rarely in a rush to look upon your ugly mug." A fine retort if ever I gave one.

The boys helped distribute the gear, and the great debate was whether to drag my Jon Boat the distance to the large lake, walk and set up, or jump shoot. The temperature gave everyone reason to consider the latter, but I objected in spirit. It was only the second afternoon of the season, and it was worth setting the blocks and putting in a hunt. We could "hike" any old time.

My reasoning took hold for once, although the old Dane bemoaned carrying a bag of decoys. Since the Boy hadn't completed hunter's safety he was elected our official "Mule." His eyes flashed at the opportunity, as if happy to have a purpose, and an excuse to not focus on the shotguns. I smiled with pride, as I knew his secret.

The Angry Dane and Mitchel decided to walk the east side of the big water, as we took to the west. The idea was to scout both, touch base and decide where best to set the blocks. As a bonus, I had a narrow stretch of water between two of the larger ones to sneak through. I may have scoffed at the idea of jump-shooting, but never would I begrudge the opportunity to add a bird or two to my bag.

As it happened, Calvin followed at my heels, excited but unsure... pups. The Boy stayed close by as well. We went across the smaller of the two large bodies, and were approaching the stretch. I poked my head above the cattails and saw movement. I flashed my hand to get the Boy to stay low. Calvin watched my every move. "They're woodies in the corner! Stay along the east edge, and stay behind my line. Get ready for a show!" I whispered in hushed, excited tones. How best to sneak up on them? Through the channel and weeds. If I could just get close enough.

It had been a wet spring and summer. In fact, it rained nearly each day in June to some degree. The chain was swelling with water. This area last year was dry ground. Now it was completely submerged. How deep? I guess we'd find out.

Calvin and I slipped between the cattails and into the water. Blades of grass were floating along the surface, and it wasn't long before I was well up to my waist. The smells of decaying plant matter is a perfume I happily wear out of doors. Fortunately, there was enough tall grass to cover our sneak, yet gaps to allow me a good view, when necessary. Calvin was swimming into the back of my legs. Again, my heart filled with pride. He didn't quite know what we was happening, but he wasn't going to miss it for the world.

We managed to get within roughly fifteen yards of our quarry. Things seemed to move in slow motion. I knew there were at least three birds just ahead, and I readied my old Remington 11-87. I glanced at the Boy, and swung my attention forward. The birds sensed something was awry. I took another step and a wood duck drake jumped. I took quick aim, fired, and dropped him in the middle of the stretch. Four more birds jumped, I swung quickly fired at the lead bird and missed. With my last shot I took careful aim and took another drake. He crumpled at the water's edge.

I looked towards the Boy. He gave a fist pump, and I returned the favor. "Two of three. I'll take that!" I couldn't wait to share this statistic with the Dane and Mitchel. I was hoping they'd get some shooting, as Mitchel hadn't harvested his first duck yet. At the age of 14, we hoped today may be the day.

One step into the stretch though, and I knew we had a situation. The water went from my waist to my chest. As much as I enjoy a good swim, I'd rather not do so in waders. There was no way I'd be able to reach that first drake. It was time for Calvin to earn his keep.

"Get 'em Calvin. Get the bird!" I proclaimed. Calvin swam out on a direct line for the woodie. I was all smiles as I watched his legs pump, his tail swish, and heard him whimper into the wet. He reached the bird in little time, circled it, and headed back towards me! "Get the bird Cal! Get him!" Calvin swerved around, went to the bird and got behind it, and tried to push it to me with his chest. The downed duck circled away from him like a pirouetting dancer in a slow spiral. "Come on Cal, get him. Get the bird!" I said with a bit more encouragement.

Calvin nudged the duck with his nose this time, and took in the scent. He whined audibly at this point and left it to come back towards me. Was he getting tired of swimming? At this point, I questioned my faith, and barked "Back! Come on Calvin. Get the bird. Get him!" Calvin swiveled and went again to the dead drake. He nudged it with his mouth and I said "Atta boy! Get him. Get him Calvin. Get the bird." My voice rose an octave or two, and felt a bit like I was talking to the Boy when he was a toddler.

What happened next has been etched... no burned into my memory. Calvin took one wing feather! He gripped that feather in his teeth, not mouth, teeth! He began retrieving the drake. "That a boy! C'mon Cal. Good boy. Bring him!" Calvin's eyes were directly on mine. He whined the entire time, as I'm sure he didn't trust the taste of this strange bird, but knowing it was what he was to do. He brought the bird right to me, and released it to my hand. "Good Boy!!" Calvin quickly went the shore, shook water everywhere, and began racing around the edge in a sprint of excitement. He went directly the other downed drake and brought him back, carried in his mouth. Wow! He learned quickly.

The boy had seen the whole thing, and was laughing pretty heartily at me, as I was encouraging the dog. Even so, he was pretty excited about how that sneak went. He was less excited about carrying the downed birds and the decoys.

We met up with the Angry one and Mitchel shortly after, set up, and enjoyed the remainder of the afternoon. As it was, the other two managed to jump a couple mallards near the northwest corner, and Mitchel got his first bird as well!

The boys spent the next pleasant hours chatting and admiring the three downed birds. The Dane and I spoke of old times, and future spots to try. Plans were made, relationships renewed. No limits that day, but the hunts would continue.

It's difficult to convey how such a simple activity can bestow such fondness and fulfillment in one's soul. Giving the Boy a taste of the social aspects of duck hunting, with hopes of future times in the blind. Seeing the Angry Dane share about Mitchel downing his first bird, and the humble way Mitchel tried to hide his obvious excitement. The Dane and I picking up where we left off. We hadn't missed a beat! When we weren't heckling each other, much for the amusement of the kids, we schemed new adventures, and just enjoy each other's company. To top it off, Calvin was definitely shoring up to be a water dog. Our duck tradition would endure.