The wild pheasant population in Michigan isn't what it used to be when I was a kid. These days, the Department of Natural Resources releases farm-raised roosters onto select public hunting grounds. While it can't match the sweeping prairies of South Dakota, there's still something magical about these hunts—something that stirs the soul more deeply than any preserve could. For me, these moments are made extraordinary by the companionship of dogs who've shared my journey, especially my beloved Kaila.
The morning began with Piper, my middle Brittany, taking first watch. As we moved through a patch of cover, she suddenly locked into a twirling, staunch point that made my heart skip a beat. It was the kind of point that whispered, "This bird is close—really close." I circled in carefully, and just as I'd hoped, a rooster burst skyward directly over Piper's head. One clean shot, and the bird fell. At my release command, Piper darted forward, returning with her head held high, our prize secured perfectly in her gentle grip—pure poetry in motion.
Then came Kaila's turn. My oldest Brittany is more than just a hunting dog—she's a master of her craft with over a decade of experience at my side. Through fields, brambles, and woodlots, her nose and loyalty have never failed me. This November, she reminded me once again why she's earned her legendary status in my eyes.
We moved purposefully through the fields, her white and orange coat a natural part of autumn's palette. Every muscle in her body tensed with focus when she locked on point. I circled wide, giving her the space she'd earned through years of experience. Then came the unexpected—a rooster burst up behind me, catching me off guard despite my careful, broad approach. Instinct took over; I swung and fired true, but the tough bird kept flying, disappearing into the woodlot before I could take a second shot. Another bird flushed to my right, but my hurried shot went wide. Through it all, Kaila held her original point, steady as stone.
At my quiet release command, she bolted toward where the first rooster had vanished. My hand moved to my whistle—logic said the bird was long gone—but something stopped me. This was Kaila, my trusted partner of countless hunts. She'd earned my faith. I lowered the whistle and waited.
The minutes stretched long, and doubt began to creep in. Then, through the tall grass, I spotted her distinctive gait. There in her mouth was the first rooster, still very much alive but retrieved against all odds. Her eyes met mine with that knowing look that comes from years of partnership. Unless you've lived it, it's impossible to capture the emotional roller coaster—from the thrill of the flush to the sting of disappointment, from hope to concern, and finally to that overwhelming surge of pride and joy when your dog proves yet again why you trust them completely.
These precious moments transcend the hunt itself. They speak to something deeper—that profound connection between hunter and dog that can only be forged through thousands of shared hours in the field. It's a bond built on mutual trust, deep respect, and pure love.
Tika, my youngest Brittany, rounded out our day. With my limit reached, I left the gun behind and watched her work. Her youthful energy carried her through the field until she caught scent and froze in a perfect point. I flushed the rooster and fired my blank 209 pistol five times. She stood unwavering, exactly as trained, until my "GONE AWAY" released her back to my side. Each run built her confidence, strengthening the foundation for hunts to come.
As we settled in at home that evening, the dogs sprawled near the fireplace. Kaila's twitching legs and quivering nose told me she was reliving her triumph. Watching her dream, gratitude washed over me for all our shared years. Nearby, Piper and Tika rested contentedly, each carrying their own victories from the day.
Hunting with my Brittanys isn't about filling limits—it's about these precious moments that remind me why I fell in love with this pursuit. Each dog brings their own special magic to the field, and together, they've blessed me with stories I'll cherish forever. That November day stands out as something perfect—when each dog had their moment to shine, and I had the privilege of witnessing it. Yes, we brought roosters home, but the real treasure was the memory we crafted together, one that will stay with me until my final days.
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