ESTESBOG

by Peter Walker

Did you ever hear of a hound making a career change?

Years ago my friend Dave Schnoor, manager back then of the state fish hatchery out in Wray, had a little rabbit hound named Luke. Luke was “beagle-ish,” but by no means a purebred. He was tri-colored like a typical beagle and small in stature. But Luke was heavier set and his head, ears and feet suggested a basset somewhere in his recent ancestry.

At any rate, Luke’s true love, aside from being a Schnoor family member and all the duties that entailed, was hunting rabbits. With his super nose and full voice, he was very good at it.

When Luke was around 7 years old, the unthinkable happened. His humans, for reasons he couldn’t fathom, brought home a pair of Brittany puppies. Suddenly he was overwhelmed with competition. Life was cruel. Life was unfair. And it was about to turn more so.

That fall Luke saw Dave take a shotgun out of the cabinet and naturally assumed it was time to go bunny hunting. He squealed and spun with delight. Imagine his disappointment when it was the two young Brits that were loaded into the Jeep and Luke was shut in his kennel. Luke howled with anger and heartbreak the entire time they were gone.

The next time Dave got ready for a bird hunt with his promising Brittanies, his wife Tammy intervened and implored him to take Luke along lest he drive her crazy with his mourning. Dave agreed to try it.

Most folks do not place beagles or other hounds very high on the canine intelligence tree. But Luke proved the exception. Made to walk at heal beside Dave while the two youngsters romped in front of them, Luke watched carefully and soon figured out the new game. The pups were looking for birds!

If you can’t beat them, join them.

Within two or three hunts Luke created a role for himself as a sort of crew chief and backup. For whatever reason, Dave just wasn’t interested in rabbits any more. So Luke learned to suppress his instincts and become a sort of self-made bird dog.

It was late in that first fall of Luke’s career change that Dave invited me on a bird hunt on Sandsage State Wildlife Area west of Wray. We started out behind the three dogs, the Brittanies working enthusiastically back and forth out ahead while Luke stayed just ahead of us as if waiting for an opportunity to prove himself.

The behavior of the full-grown Brittanies belied their young age. Frequently they would forget the task at hand and tussle with each other. They were, after all, less than a year old.

After 15 minutes of on-again, off-again hunting the Brittanies began to act “birdy” along the edge of corn stubble and I walked up behind them. A covey of bobwhite burst up like the shrapnel of a firecracker in front of the dogs. I’m not known for my shooting ability; but that time it all came together and I knocked down a quail with each barrel. Meanwhile the two pups were already one hundred yards away trying to catch some of the remaining birds as they scaled across the field. Now it was Luke’s turn.

As Dave hollered at his misbehaving bird dogs, Luke quietly worked out ahead and made a double retrieve, returning to his master with both quail in his mouth. A retrieving beagle!

Later in the afternoon, as I was walking along a deer path with Luke coming up from behind me, a cottontail bolted across my path a few yards ahead. I stopped and let Luke pass, wondering what he’d do with a nose full of bunny scent. As he crossed the spot where the rabbit had just been, he slammed on the brakes. He looked off in the direction the bunny had fled, pointed his nose to the sky, and let out a loud, soulful Bo-WOOOO. After all, he was a rabbit hound in his first life.