TOWNER, N.D. -- Just a week or so ago, the sharptailed grouse hunting season opened up in North Dakota. I didn't get out for the opener to look for grouse on the ranch because I was in Fargo, N.D., looking for Bison at my old home, the campus of North Dakota State University.
I was there to see ESPN Sports broadcast their Game Day show, and there was a big herd of Bison (fans) roaming Broadway in downtown Fargo. Game Day was fun, but there was still a part of me that yearned to be pursuing the upland game of grouse back home in our pasture.
Growing up 16 miles from town, I didn't get to spend a lot of time on the football field. If I was getting down a field in the fall, it was usually a hay field.
If we weren't haying, I'd get off the school bus, grab my shotgun, and hit the hunting field with my English Setter companion, Maid, short for her American Kennel Club registered name, Taylor Maid.
I didn't grow up thinking I'd ever have a registered Setter to hunt behind. But, I loved to hunt. I took our state's hunter's safety course as soon as I was old enough, I read hunting magazines, I cleaned and cared for a single-shot 20- gauge shotgun that my uncle lent to me, and I walked through sporting goods stores, wide eyed and wanting, like other kids would walk through toy stores.
ADVERTISEMENT
It was about that time of my youth when our banker brought a couple of his friends from the Twin Cities out to our ranch to hunt grouse. Dad told them they were sure welcome to hunt. But he didn't send them out without saying, "you should take Ryan with you. He likes to hunt, and he can show you where the birds are at."
Off I went. The two fellas, Sam and Bud, were pretty well educated, one was a biochemistry professor at the University of Minnesota, the other worked for a big company as a research scientist. But they shared a love of the outdoors with a 12-year-old ranch kid who wasn't exactly sure what biochemistry even was. They introduced me to the joy of hunting behind dogs, and Sam and Bud both had English Setters they brought with them to help us cover the ground. I found them some birds, and we had a grand time together -- old men, a young kid and some happy dogs.
They took a liking to me, and I became pen pals with the biochemistry professor. He talked about having his female Setter bred to Bud's dog, and how he'd like me to have one of the puppies from the litter. I couldn't have imagined happier news coming from his neat, typewritten stationery.
So Sam made another trip out to the ranch to deliver a female English Setter puppy. We'd never spent any money to get a dog, but I knew this one was worth quite a bit if we had to buy her. Later on, Sam and Bud also sent me an official bird hunting dog whistle, with a little counter on it to tally the number of birds pointed and a copy of the book "Gun Dog," so I'd know how to train and hone her instinctive love for finding birds.
Maid and I put a lot of miles on together, hunting sharptails on our ranch, and I suppose that gifted dog and borrowed shotgun shaped me in some positive ways. I guess that's why I bought a single-shot 20-gauge just like the one my uncle lent me, and I had my sons shoot it this summer.
Their shoulders weren't quite ready for it, but it won't be long, and I'll get them out in the pasture in the pursuit of grouse, and my daughter too when she gets a little older. Except now I'll be in the role of the "old man" and they'll be the eager kids. I should try to find another happy bird dog to complete the picture.
