The Cooler

In the 2003 movie "The Cooler" William H Macy plays a worn out ex gambler named Bernie Lootz whose chronic bad luck got him a job as a "Cooler" at a Las Vegas casino. His job was to stand at tables next to lucky gamblers inevitably casting a dark cloud on their luck. During the season of 2006 I experienced a dreaded stretch of poor shooting seemingly unexplained except for the Sharptail grouse that taunted me and shook my confidence to my very soul. I had finally met my "Cooler."
                                                      We would all experience failures shooting at one time or another laughing at being outsmarted by the birds. It's most amusing of course when it's happening to your hunting partner and not you! As we'd share the stories of each run listening to the instances of bad luck you find it hard to imagine it happening to you. You listen and laugh but when whoever it is obviously has lost their mojo and can't hit the broad side of a barn you avoid them like someone with a bad cold. Well maybe not consciously but you still think "don't get to close" for fear they might be contagious!
                                                      I was hunting 10 miles south on this morning with bright sunshine and mild winds. It was the third week of October and by mid week we had done fairly well shooting mixed bags of Pheasant and Sharptail most day's. This trip Tom,Phil, and myself had traveled together in one vehicle most days dropping each other off to hunt solo behind our dog's. I had been struggling with my shooting at times on this trip but the dog's made up for it by relentlessly finding more birds for me to shoot at.
                                                      We started this days run around some wheat stubble with tree rows dividing it. I put Mick on the ground for this run and we began walking the tree rows with Mick working the edges casting about the wheat stubble trying to pick up scent. The birds are notorious for running within this cover of course and pinning down a wily rooster here is no easy task. Finally at the north end of the run Mick had locked up pointing into the tree row with tall grass and brush about 10 feet wide. I approached from about 60 yards behind him at this point and cautiously walked past him pausing to look ahead into the cover for a shooting lane. As I proceeded into the cover a bird flushed. Expecting a pheasant I was caught off guard as a Sharptail rose slowly in full profile seemingly looking at me as if to say " Here I am catch me if you can". As I recall the bird looked rather odd maybe a little smaller and chuckled as it rose again a little unusual. Most of the time the Sharptail chuckle after taking flight a ways. Well I looked to long and obviously didn't look where I was shooting because both shots missed with the bird just casually flying away.
                                                        This came after walking up and down tree rows a half mile long. It was a nice point well earned by Mick but again squandered by my poor shooting which was beginning to wear on me. We continued our run to the west of this area along some corn stubble bordering 80 acres of CRP grass. Within a couple hundred yards Mick became birdy once again working a bird along this edge. As we crested a hill in the field I saw Mick abruptly turn and freeze right on the edge where the corn stubble and the grass met pointing to the south. I quickened my pace covering the 75 yards in short order uphill hoping to redeem myself and break out of the funk I felt myself sinking into. The bird held as I made my final approach with Mick rock solid. Then the bird burst from the cover straight ahead twenty yards. A Sharptail. The same slow rise and chuckle. The same look in the eye. I was mesmerized and again looked to long, lost my focus and missed. For all I know my gun could have been pointing straight into the air!
                                                         Now I was obviously shaken. Something was seriously wrong. This bird which had to be the same bird I had just been made a fool by minutes before had now done it again. There was just something about it that caused me to freeze up and loose my concentration. I'm afraid I had met my "Cooler".
                                                           Mick and I proceeded to work west along this edge and shortly Mick was into a stalk on a moving bird that took us all the way to the end a quarter mile moving in and out of the grass. This was most certainly a pheasant and sure enough as we crossed into the next field of corn stubble adjacent to the CRP Mick worked right towards a rock pile 40 feet off the west edge of the grass. My confidence having been seriously shaken I ran through my mind the chances I had of figuring out how to outsmart a rooster that knew which side we were approaching from. Slim was my answer. Mick worked around the west edge of the rock pile cautiously. I then lost sight of him as I was approaching from the east and didn't see him come all the way around so he must be on point on the south west side. My decision was to approach from the south east hoping to get the bird pinned between Mick and myself. As I came around the south end of the rock pile there was Mick pointing just around the corner at the pile. With one more step being about ten feet from Mick a rooster flushed behind me and to the right careening towards the CRP to the east. The rooster was very close as it flew by and I shot quickly. A miss.Then I swung through missing again!.
                                                           This had been a difficult run for me but a superb performance by Mick and I made sure he knew I appreciated it. By now I knew I had it. The dreaded curse. Like a golfer that has lost his swing I had lost my ability to shoot. But we pressed on the plan being to walk the CRP to the east ending where we started the run.
                                                            We were a little more than half way through the grass with Mick pointing a couple hens when he locked up on a slight rise. I walked cautiously up to him with nothing flushing when suddenly behind me a bird took flight. As I turned around I saw the 'Cooler" yet again taking flight in the same slow manner looking me right in the eye chuckling as he casually flew away after I shot at him twice missing of course! All kinds of thoughts ran through my mind. What did I do to deserve this? What was it about this bird that had me so shook up? Was it the slow rise? The look in the eye? And that chuckle. Was he really laughing at me?
                                                            I knew when I related this story to Tom and Phil it would be my turn to wear the dunce hat and for how long was anyone's guess. The week wore on with some improvement and through sheer determination and an excellent job by the Setters I managed to put some birds in the bag but admit it wasn't pretty at times. During that week I had to go back once more just to try to redeem myself   and prove the phenomenon of the "Cooler" didn't exist only to have been beat once again by what I'm sure was the same bird. I had never seen a Sharptail quite like this one. That was enough. I never made that run again that season wanting to stay far away from the "Cooler".
                                                             The next year the Setters and I made that run and right as we crested that same hill I walked with Mick the previous season a Sharptail flushed wild in exactly the same way as the "Cooler". I watched as it looked in my direction never raising my gun as it floated south with the wind chuckling as it went." We've got a deal " I laughed to myself.

Rescue Me!

                                                         Looking over my journal notes from the season of 2011 there were lots of days and runs worthy of not forgetting. Sometimes things happen as planned but more than not each day has it's surprises it seems in one way or another. Being able to find the humor and or slowing down to appreciate the moments seems to always help make the day.
                                                         It was late November and the Setter's and I were hunting down along the  South Dakota border one morning. I had decided to run all 3 pup's in this large area with diverse terrain. They had hunted well together here before so I unleashed the hounds once again. It was cold with a light layer of ice covering the sloughs along with a dusting of snow.
                                                          We had gone about two hundred yards when all 3 dog's were birdy along a slough bordered by sunflower stubble. As they worked to the west along a tree line I lost sight of them and upon checking my Garmin Beau had gone south along the tree line. Molly had gone northwest along the slough and I didn't have time to check for Mick as I came within sight of Beau pointing along the field edge. Before I headed for Beau I also caught sight of Molly pointing as well but being farther away decided to head for Beau first. I got within 50 yards of Beau and his birds flushed wild. After getting him turned back around we headed towards Molly who was patiently still holding now 150 yards away. I got halfway to her and her birds bolted as well. Gosh darn it. A group of 4 Roosters no less!
                                                           My boots had not been on the ground for more than twenty minutes at this point. Now where was Mick? I pulled out my Garmin again and he was 75 yards east on point! This would be right in the slough as I walked back that direction and with the ice being very thin I tried to spot him first without walking out to far for fear of falling through. Well I got within 35 yards and kept trying to spot him but couldn't. So I checked the location again and headed in a direct line breaking through the ice and walking in the water now almost over my boots. That's the point that I finally spotted Mick. Not on point but totally immersed in the water having broken through! He was holding himself up with his front paws on the ice waiting for me to rescue him. I walked ahead with the water getting deeper as I went breaking the ice as I moved forward. By the time I reached Mick I was up to my crotch in the cold icy water. Grabbing him with one hand by the collar I tried to hoist him out but the ice just kept breaking. Of course the other two dog's interested in what the hell was going on had also ventured out onto the ice but luckily hadn't fallen through. I gave them the whoa command once I realized they had followed. Walking and pulling Mick at the same time I was able to get him out far enough for him to walk on his own again after about 50 feet in the deep water. I hope he appreciated it! I'm not sure if left on his own whether or not he would have made it out. Another reason to use the Garmin tracking collars!
                                                           With a whole day of hunting ahead of us I was now wet up to my waist. We had gotten into birds right away but had nothing to show for it. I decided to tough it out and directed the pup's to circle around to the north to hunt some CRP. On the way Molly had a nice point on a single Rooster no doubt an earlier missed opportunity which I missed again. Twice!
                                                           We walked on another quarter mile to the grass with the Setter's fanning out and working into the wind as we headed west. They worked the ground beautifully with birds moving ahead and I was able to watch as the field had a gentle rise to it. After circling about with all of them trying to corner these birds I finally had Beau pointing in the lead 100 yards to the west. Molly and Mick upon seeing Beau also were locked up 25 and 50 yards to the north of him. Honoring his point. A really pretty sight. I just kept hoping the birds would hold as I made my way as quickly as I could. Within range finally I slowed and walked the rest of the way cautiously towards Beau. Pointing with head high into the wind I walked past him  20 feet. Then the most beautiful double flush I think I ever saw occurred with two Roosters taking flight rising in full profile one slightly before the other allowing me time to focus on the first before taking sight on the second. But it wasn't to be. Not on this day. When I squeezed the trigger the only sound that was heard was that of the cackling and beating of wings as the birds escaped to the west. I had forgotten to reload on the last flush!
                                                              What a beautiful moment. Although squandered it was such a sight to see and I had to laugh at myself. But I made sure to give kudos to the pup's and we continued on with two more nice points on Rooster's I was able to put in the bag. One which was a really nice job by all 3 Setter's in the open pasture grass. My pants and boots were also dry by the time we reached the Jeep. No harm done! I was now ready to head for a little town nearby with a cafe where I knew I could get a piece of homemade pie or two before we headed to our next run.