A Dog Named Blitz - Chapter One: "The Beginning, the End" Part One

The following is part of the blog serial "It's, It's a Dog Named Blitz." For background on this story, please click here.

The wind whipping outside rattled the old house. The clock read 4:05, too early for anybody normal, but a special time to those devoted to the hunting and fishing lifestyle. An alarm wasn’t necessary; I was up this early on my own and it was time to get going.

My bare feet hit the cold floor and helped get things pumping better than a jolt of coffee. I dressed as quietly as possible, trying to keep the silent house still. The creaky floor and staircase reiterated my need to shed some pounds, but despite the noise I was successful in creeping downstairs while the rest house remained still.

I ran out to the truck to get it started and warmed up, and came back in to scribble a note for my wife.

Honey,
Couldn’t sleep, so Blitz and I are going to the Duck Camp. I’ll be home later.
XO,
Mikey

I ran back outside and climbed into the cold rig. “You ready to go, girl?” I asked to the dog in the back seat. And with that start we departed for my farm.

The drive took a couple of hours due to a stop at my favorite coffee shop in Sauk Centre. As we finally approached the land which had brought us both so much joy, I couldn’t help but be flooded by memories of hunts that Blitz and I had enjoyed among the parcel.

I pulled off to the side of the dirt road and pulled the truck up to the site of Blitz’s first flush on the property. I left the truck running, but exited the vehicle, and donned my hunting vest. As I walked into the thicket of trees, my memory of Blitz's flush filled my eyes. She was an exuberant seven month old at the time – a darting yellow streak dashing to and fro with unabashed joy. Half hunting, and half just running her tail off for the simple pleasure of it. While not the best technique for hunting, it clearly was entertaining to watch.

Blitz had just completed a quartering move to my left and was coming around when her nose went to the ground hard. I had seen such behavior before, and usually found it reserved for bunnies and chipmunks, so needless to say my expectations were not high. But despite my doubts Blitz made a nose-down beeline for the thick cover to my right, and I haphazardly swung in behind her in case she actually was on a bird.

Through the thick cover I could see that she had moved in tight to a small clump of cover, and as she was closing in, she froze solid. Due to my nonchalance, I was completely out of position, but even with her locked up on point, I could not believe that she could be holding a bird in such poor cover. As I lollygagged to getting into a better area, a giant rooster pheasant suddenly burst from the cover that Blitz was pointing and quickly headed down the only window out of the cover available. Unfortunately that window was completely blocked buy a huge tree given my current position. Dog 1. Rooster 1. Hunter 0.

Blitz immediately emerged from the thick cover with looked up at me with an unmistakable look of incredulity on her face. One glance said all there was to say, “You have GOT to be kidding me!” We stood looking at each other for a couple of seconds, with me offering apologies and her giving me “the look” when, just like that, she headed off like a shot, looking for the next bird. That is one of the true beauties of dogs – short attention spans, and the complete inability to hold a grudge.

On to the next chapter