There is Always a Contingency

Not three days after Lou got her second rooster of the season, we were presented with a major, and potentially deadly setback. We had been diligent with cleanup of anything related to Luca, but somewhere, somehow, Tallulah found a diaper. It took two or three days for the affects to be known as Lou was having some difficulties. An early morning X-ray showed enough for Rachel to make an executive decision. It was time to open up our pup......With Luca sleeping (thank you Lord) in the carseat, Rachel did surgery at 2am on Lou. The most frustrating part of the whole experience was that we never did find any evidence of the diaper. It was later determined that the little gel goo in the diaper really messed up her guts and that was what caused the main issue. What made the deal worse was Lou's reaction to the anesthesia. It took roughly four hours for her to come out of it and almost two days before she was even remotely functional. It was terrifying. Because of her slow recovery as well as the major stomach surgery, Lou was out of commission for three weeks minimum.

This presented a bit of a conundrum as I obviously wanted to keep hunting but, Mocha is older than the dirt we were hunting on, and Lou was out. After some discussion with the high commander, we decided as long as we took it super easy, Mocha could go on some powderpuff hunts.

Lou was able to come out of her stooper, and we had Halloween during the week with our little calf to distract us from the tough week.

After Halloween I decided another field hunt with Mocha was going to be my best, if only bet for getting to hunt without Lou. I scouted as usual, found that the birds were using the corn field as usual, but due to circumstances, I needed to make sure I had options in case there were others there. When I got out to the spot, there wasn't a pickup in sight. I drove into the cornfield and worked along the fenceline. I figured because of the pressure I could just bury myself in the fence for best cover. When I crested the rise in the field, I was greeted by the Spanish Inquisition of lighting. Towers of floodlights and five pickups were in the field getting their set prepped for the morning. The second they caught sight of me, a stack of lights turned my way. I was not about to start a turf war, so I turned tail and headed for my plan-b. 

My contingency plan required me to haul in all of my gear, including the bag of decoys, my blind, and my gear. I don't let these guys get the best of me anymore, so I doubled back to the green cover crop field this time and put myself between these guys and the birds. I set my decoys near the far fenceline and waited for first light. When you are not on the X you have to make the best of any opportunities at birds and I did a deplorable job. I was too picky and what shots I took were poor, but it was an outing. I was able to get Mocha to retrieve two mallards for me the entirety of the morning. 

It is amazing to see an old pup like Mocha get back out and do what she knows best. Her hearing is shot, her eyes are not much better, but her nose still works. She just needs to get close. The difference; her body is failing her drive. She wants to do it all, but she is physically incapable anymore. Had I shot a full limit of birds, she would really have been a hurting even more so than already. She made it through the hunt and was able to come home and sleep soundly. 

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