Many years ago I had an excellent deer / bird dog by the name of Chip. He came from a very long line of champion Labrador retriever / hunters, traceable right back to his ancestors in England. I named him Chip because his pedigree gave him a string of names, none of which was short and sharp like the name Chip!
He was one of those dogs that only needed to be shown something once and was away, just one of those naturals. Before he was one year old, his first duck shooting season was spent retrieving many ducks where he had to leap off a 1.5 metre clay bank, retrieve a duck and swim downstream to a point about 30 metres away and carry the bird back to the maimai. That day he retrieved over 30 ducks for 3 shooters. Not only that, but we watched him dive for 2 ducks that he had difficulty catching on the surface of the water. He also had a very soft mouth as several of the ducks were still alive when he returned. I knew at this stage that I was onto a winner, but really discovered this years later when trying to train a replacement. Before this he had not even scented a duck but had some practice on sticks.
That same winter I started him on deer and discovered very quickly that I had better believe him when he indicated an animal. Normally he was very quiet but once he had scented a deer or pig, he snuffled and snorted louder than an old sow. After several attempts to quieten the noisy b….r, I realised that the deer and pigs would hang around for a look because they had never heard anything quite like this before (I think). In the end I shot and recovered more animals with Chip and his noisiness than I ever had done before or since. No wounded animals escaped while I had him. The longest tracking of a wounded animal with Chip was (measured) 1 ½ miles.
When Chip was in his hey-day, we were out hunting one day and I was caught short. Fortunately in the bush I hunted, there were plenty of Rangiora leaves available. If you use enough of them, your fingers won’t go through. Always an advantage when there is no water handy!
Not long after depositing a land mine, we managed to nail a hind. As usual Chip had his substantial tid-bit of meat while I was gutting the animal. At this stage I got a substantial whiff of the said land mine and thought “b….r I must have deposited some on my clothing”. Gutting completed, I then stripped off most of my clothing but could find nothing – it must have been my imagination.
We, that is, I, proceeded to drag the animal out to the road – about ½ an hour away. Upon reaching the road, I sat down and had a spell and again gave Chip another tid-bit. Holy crap, again I could smell the land mine. I stripped off all of my clothes this time and after an exhaustive search, could not find any trace of said land mine. Chip then sat down next to me for his usual scratch on the ear. Holy crap I could smell said land mine strongly and discovered it well smeared across his shoulder. He could only have rolled in it when I wasn’t looking!
“You dirty b…..d” was my response, “get the hell out of here”. It must be remembered that there was no water for miles, so apart from using leaves to rub him down, there was nothing more to be done. The smell of the land mine remained.
After putting the carcase on the trailer, Chip waited at the passenger door of the car, expecting to be let into his usual spot. “Oh no you don’t you dirty b…..d, you ride in the trailer today”. I tied him on so that he couldn’t get off and drove to Jim’s place, a mate who had a dairy farm on my way home.
Upon arrival at Jim’s place, he said “nice hind – what’s Chip on the trailer for?” he knew that I always carried him in the car.
So I proceeded to tell him about the land mine! He roared with laughter and spluttered something about the owner of the land mine was probably dead by now and had “met himself coming back!” Now I not only had a dirty b…..d but a cheeky b…..d!
Next step was to clean Chip up. I untied him from the trailer and ordered him to follow me to the cow shed, where I was going to give him a good hose down. Alas, he noted some ducks on Jim’s settlement cow s..t pond and proceeded to chase them. Eventually he returned and received the hosing down that he deserved. The cow s..t was no match for the land mine as it still permeated the air.
Back to being tied on the trailer and another smart comment from Jim as we headed home. Whereupon Chip was smothered in almost neat Dettol.
That fixed “the dirty b…..d!”
Lesson learnt: “Always bury your land mines or you could meet yourself coming back!”
Dave Bragg