Catch And Release Hunting Smells Fishy

Early in October, flight woodcock had yet to arrive in my favorite covert right out the back door. So on one overcast day I decided to wait on the 'doodles and drive up to my release club instead for a pheasant hunt with Gordie.

After parking the car, I grabbed my 12 gauge Benelli Ultra Light and vest, released Gordie, and headed for cover. That’s when I discovered that my vest was full - of 20 gauge #8s. A flailing search through the mess in the trunk failed to produce any 12 gauge shells. While re-casing and storing the gun, I decided that I’d run Gordie anyway. But after about ten minutes I returned to the car, put Gordie up, and drove back home.

When I reviewed the day’s events over a wee dram that evening, a signature line used by a poster at the Shooting Sportsman bulletin board came to mind. I cannot quote his text, but I can come close. If he ever arrived at a distant cover without his dog, he wrote, he’d go home. But if he arrived without his gun, he’d go hunting. I’d always liked that signature. For guys like me, working beautiful cover with a canine buddy is what it's all about.

In “Meditations On Hunting,” philosopher Ortega y Gassett begs to differ. He writes “…one does not hunt in order to kill; on the contrary, one kills in order to have hunted.” It’s obvious he’s never seen me shoot or he’d know better. Philosophy always trumped me, anyway. If anyone is interested in splitting the hairs of matters like this, you should go see what Jim T. has to say over at Grousers.

After another wee dram and some reflection, I figured that the poster and I had it almost right. If I ever arrive in wild bird country with Gordie but not my shotgun, we’ll get out and run all right, but we'll be scouting, not hunting.

When I cast Gordie off that day at my shooting club, technically I wasn’t even scouting. I've belonged to the club for 12 years. Its 300 acres hide no surprise hotspots for me, and if it weren't for released pheasants, there'd be no upland birds there at all. Furthermore, if Gordie had found and flushed any leftover ringnecks, I’d have wasted $15 of member resources every time one flew over our fence into an adjoining property. It didn’t take long to realize that if this exercise wasn’t useless, then it was selfishly extravagant.

But the fix was easy. As mentioned earlier, I drove home where I exchanged the Ultra Light for my 20 gauge Rizzini and went looking for woodcock out back. And although we didn’t see a bird, with absolutely no apology to Ortega y Gassett, we enjoyed hunting until it was almost dark.

Scouting Beautiful Cover For Wild Birds Is Always Fun And Often Productive