The Patriot Post® · Final Hunts and Unexpected Farewells

There comes a time in every great hunting dog’s life that they will point their last bird. There comes a time in all our lives that we will bid someone farewell for the last time. Sometimes we will have a great sense of when those times are imminent, and other times they will come as an unfortunate surprise.

So it was when my stalwart Gordon Setter “Caena” arrived at her 13th October. I knew that sometime that fall she would point her last bird. She was completely deaf and nearly blind, but she still had the nose she had become famous for in my hunting circle. Her entire life she had always checked in visually with me to make sure we were working together, so I wasn’t worried about getting separated from her as long as we stayed close.

Late in October, we decided to make it a special day for her. Just her. We took her to the farm in South Dakota that she loved so much and where, in fact, she had pointed her first bird when she was only six months old. She rode in the front seat of the truck with us on the way down so she would be warm.

We took her to what over the years of her life had been her favorite and most productive hunt. The location was a grown-over fence line that bordered a harvested soybean field in some years and corn in others.

She knew exactly where she was when we lifted her out of the truck, and I barely had time to load my shotgun before she was working the edges of cover with her nose high in the air testing the currents of scent. The limp in her failing hips showed up rapidly, and I silently prayed she would find a bird soon. Catching up with her and closing to that 20-yard zone in which she and I worked best together on fence lines, she suddenly froze, nose down, right paw raised and tail held high. She had her bird.

When the big Rooster Pheasant busted out of the cover, cackling as he sped away, it was a left-to-right crossing shot — a tough one for many right-handed shooters. Fortunately, nimrod had my back at that moment and the shot was true. The bird fell about 25 yards away. I knew “Caena” couldn’t see it well, but the wind was in her face and she began working her way to it, following the scent, and finally picked it up.

She was so proud of herself.

We took a lot of photos and told her what a good girl she was as she was happily wagging her tail. She was officially in retirement now, as judging by her shaky walk back to the truck she just didn’t have a lot left in her.

But she got her last bird.

A few months later, I held her head in my hands as she took her last breath. I made sure to wear my old hunting coat so she could smell the thousands of miles and hundreds of hunts she and I had shared together — what she had lived her life for.

Her orange collar with the attached brass nameplate inscribed with her name still hangs on the doorknob to my office. It’s been there over a year now. Sometimes I lift it off the doorknob and just hold it for a while. Someday I think I will remove the nameplate and nail it to the base of her favorite tree she slept under. Just not today…

Bob, a good friend from Tennessee, made several trips to North Dakota to both spend a few evenings in our home on his way to British Columbia and to hunt with us on occasion. During Bob’s last trip here, we spent the day Sharptail Grouse hunting at a friend’s farm by Devils Lake.

After a very pleasant day in the field and a wonderful dinner, we spent the evening recounting other hunts far into the night.

The next morning, Bob was on his way. We spent some longer-than-normal moments just lingering around his truck in the glow of the crimson sunrise that was blooming in the eastern sky. Two old friends just comfortable with each other who had “Seen the Elephant” together more than once. Gordon Setter “Caena” got off the porch and wandered down to let Bob scratch her ears. She always loved him.

Finally, Bob says, “Well, I’ve got a long way to go.” And as we watched the tail lights of his truck go down the driveway, little did we realize it would be the last time we ever saw him again, as he died both young and unexpectedly not long after.

That was one of those final meetings that came as a surprise. There have been several others since then.

Isak Dinesen wrote, “God made the world round so we would never be able to see too far down the road.”

Treasure those you hold close both man and beast. You never know when that last farewell or last bird will come.