Don't let the Old Hunter In!

"Just one more cover," Dad harkened out forty-five minutes before legal shooting was over. The wood stove was what most of us were thinking about, but we didn't want to disappoint; we didn't want to be shown up, and we didn't have our limit.

"Ok then, put down Bessie". The seven-year-old English Pointer has had a stellar season and would find any remaining birds quickly or give us an excuse to quit early. As with most of the last hunts of the season, you hope for a promising sign from the dog, getting birdy as we like to say, and hopefully close to the trail.

Edge covers with sound footing along the perimeter is about the best a few of our "senior" hunters can manage. The desire is there, and the scene is familiar, but will the damn birds cooperate?

Bessie is too far in the thicket, where the tangles quickly grab your feet and legs, pulling you like a tug-of-war contest, and negating a quality shot opportunity. I want to hear the story of the last bird of the season being harvested by one of the super seniors of the group. I want a solid point on the edge.

With the sun close to setting and the bell muffled as the air cools, we watch the dog work. As the "guide" for this cover, I intended to get a pointed bird that would hold long enough for the squad to shuffle into a position that would lend itself to an open shot opportunity.

During the early part of the season, while hunting with my sons, I had little concern or regard for the type of cover we were hunting. We pushed hard, fought the briars, and found the birds who needed direct attention as they scooted away from the point. The shot opportunities were reaction shots, through brush on slippery slopes. We were safe but intent on honoring the point.

Dad and his senior crew taught us this tenacity.

Modern habitat improvements are suitable for all game, birds, and deer, but leave little to be desired for the elder bird hunters. Most of the covers sprouting new growth hide the tangled undergrowth of tree tops and stumps, almost impenetrable. The birds are there, the dog has the prey drive to punish itself by fighting through the mess, but the shooter's reward is hardly a smooth move, mount, and shoot experience.

"No bell," I yelled just as a woodcock burst out and flew away from the ancient stone wall, just as I was crossing with my broken, open gun. The bumped bird didn't affect Bessie, who was still on point, and the mission was still on to get the senior shooters a last-of-the-season shot. Thank god for woodcock!

"Clyde," I yelled, "we got a point...but to my surprise, which I should have known better, Clyde was in position and was well aware of the dog on point. "I'm good, flush that bird up".

Of the many birds flushed this season, for several seasons for that matter, very few birds flew like that darn bird who started one way and then did a 180 towards you know who.

A "ShotKam" video is the best way to describe how we all saw the shot. A low, climbing, right-to-left crosser twisting away from the dog dumping stone dead at the edge of the entanglement. There was no "old anything" with that shot except a reminder that it's about attitude and a commitment to never let the old hunter in!*

Toby Keith was inspired to write "Don't Let the Old Man In" by a conversation with Clint Eastwood, who, when asked how he stayed so active at nearly 90, told Keith, "I just don't let the old man in". Keith, impressed by Eastwood's vitality, wrote the song around this phrase, and later Eastwood used it in his film The Mule, giving the song a more profound meaning as Keith himself battled cancer.