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Locked&Loaded said:
HNTFSH said:
Locked&Loaded said:
Rick Hall said:
Rick Hall said:
...From the time my guys are wee pups, they're "no"ed off gators, snakes and such well enough to, nearly always, ignore them. "Nearly always" not including a 6'-7' female that startled the bug a while back and started something of a running feud. Was close enough to break up the sparring pair with "No! Leave it!" on three occasions before opting for harsher measures and ordering an e-collar to gator-break the bug. But that's not proving so easy, as it seems it's just that one gal that has, or had, his interest.

He's shown little or no interest in any but one serious big male still dragging the roads for females at the end of that season and encountered in a very few inches of new rice water, where no gator, let alone one his size, should be. And he treated it more like the curiosity it was than an adversary or prey. Just stood and watched it for the longest time before wandering off and having to be waved back to the area for the lesson I wanted to teach. Then, when I finally had him at least kinda-sorta focused on the tataille, I hit the button, the bug yelped - and jumped away from a nearby water control pipe he apparently thought did it.

And so it's gone. Stood around waiting for him to show interest in a little one long enough this morning to think of filming and shot this near miss, our closest since the above with the big boy: (Not for those offended by the "f" word.)

Did pass by and see his nemesis, or at least I saw her and he should have winded her, but he never slowed and she slipped under when she saw me. Maybe tomorrow...
Still no luck getting the bug to show real interest in a gator, though he did pause for a brief look toward his sparring partner's lair this morning, and I saw she's built a nest. Rising sun was wrong for a photo, so after our walk we drove around and took this:

Rick is the gosh darn Steve Irwin of Louisiana. I felt like I needed to take my phone and be in the truck with the windows rolled up and the doors locked before I finished watching this video.
He's fairly agile for having a club foot.
The gator seemed leery about approaching any further due to Rick's accent.
Musta heard him cuss a dog before.
 

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HNTFSH said:
Filling in for Rick.

Resting after those 15 crazy short dove pick-ups.
Oops. I do bad work, but at least I'm consistent about it. But here's one of the coyote, er... "resting":
CopyofIMG_0270a.jpg


And a "sorry for being tardy" bonus shot of him working entirely too hard for a, er...greater-billed greenhead:
CopyofIMG_0238a.jpg
 

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Re: some of that other speculation, the only "accent" I can detect is that of the frail old codger I've somehow become, and it disappears when I roar "No! Leave it!" Something the scaly gal in the video has heard me bellow on three occasions.

She's been off our radar for a while now that water temps, suspicious algae blooms and my egg picking have shut Marsh's country outings down for the summer.
 

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Rick, why is it if gators are too plentiful and prices are down that they continue with the programs?
 

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HNTFSH said:
Locked&Loaded said:
HNTFSH said:
Locked&Loaded said:
Rick Hall said:
Rick Hall said:
...From the time my guys are wee pups, they're "no"ed off gators, snakes and such well enough to, nearly always, ignore them. "Nearly always" not including a 6'-7' female that startled the bug a while back and started something of a running feud. Was close enough to break up the sparring pair with "No! Leave it!" on three occasions before opting for harsher measures and ordering an e-collar to gator-break the bug. But that's not proving so easy, as it seems it's just that one gal that has, or had, his interest.

He's shown little or no interest in any but one serious big male still dragging the roads for females at the end of that season and encountered in a very few inches of new rice water, where no gator, let alone one his size, should be. And he treated it more like the curiosity it was than an adversary or prey. Just stood and watched it for the longest time before wandering off and having to be waved back to the area for the lesson I wanted to teach. Then, when I finally had him at least kinda-sorta focused on the tataille, I hit the button, the bug yelped - and jumped away from a nearby water control pipe he apparently thought did it.

And so it's gone. Stood around waiting for him to show interest in a little one long enough this morning to think of filming and shot this near miss, our closest since the above with the big boy: (Not for those offended by the "f" word.)

Did pass by and see his nemesis, or at least I saw her and he should have winded her, but he never slowed and she slipped under when she saw me. Maybe tomorrow...
Still no luck getting the bug to show real interest in a gator, though he did pause for a brief look toward his sparring partner's lair this morning, and I saw she's built a nest. Rising sun was wrong for a photo, so after our walk we drove around and took this:

Rick is the gosh darn Steve Irwin of Louisiana. I felt like I needed to take my phone and be in the truck with the windows rolled up and the doors locked before I finished watching this video.
He's fairly agile for having a club foot.
The gator seemed leery about approaching any further due to Rick's accent.
Musta heard him cuss a dog before.
Rick's kindly southern gent persona flew out the window when he dropped an F-bomb in the video. :lol3: :lol3:
 

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ohio mike said:
Rick, why is it if gators are too plentiful and prices are down that they continue with the programs?
Ya, got me. They did lower the mitigation level of 3-5' farm returns for eggs collected from wild by 2 percentage points a year or so ago, but that's been the only feigned relief from their spread I'm aware of.
 

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Locked&Loaded said:
Rick's kindly southern gent persona flew out the window when he dropped an F-bomb in the video. :lol3: :lol3:
I missed that, but my folks would have been pissed off to hear me say "pissed off," instead of "POed".

Made me think of a long ago regular and friend from Alabama, with the nickname "Goat" (not for randy ways but for the goat wagon he drove as a boy), who was, in fact, a genuine Southern gentleman. Was back in the Super-8 film days, and another in his party had filmed a big white spread hunt they'd made with me, which they all got together with their families to screen. All was well until Goat said "damn," and his wife, Peggy, got on him for being the only man on the hunt who felt the need to cuss.

Goat said I saved his bacon shortly after by loudly and unmistakably clearly referring to my 1187 as "piece of **** gun". Have subsequently tried to limit that to "POS" in deference to my preacher's kid upbringing.

(See the DHC auto-edit didn't care for "sh-t" and changed it to "crap," so I edited of effect.)
 

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Rick Hall said:
Locked&Loaded said:
Rick's kindly southern gent persona flew out the window when he dropped an F-bomb in the video. :lol3: :lol3:
I missed that, but my folks would have been pissed off to hear me say "pissed off," instead of "POed".

Made me think of a long ago regular and friend from Alabama, with the nickname "Goat" (not for randy ways but for the goat wagon he drove as a boy), who was, in fact, a genuine Southern gentleman. Was back in the Super-8 film days, and another in his party had filmed a big white spread hunt they'd made with me, which they all got together with their families to screen. All was well until Goat said "damn," and his wife, Peggy, got on him for being the only man on the hunt who felt the need to cuss.

Goat said I saved his bacon shortly after by loudly and unmistakably clearly referring to my 1187 as "piece of **** gun". Have subsequently tried to limit that to "POS" in deference to my preacher's kid upbringing.

(See the DHC auto-edit didn't care for "sh-t" and changed it to "crap," so I edited of effect.)
:lol3: :lol3:

I was too young to remember this happening, but always love to hear my dad tell the story of my oldest sister, who has always been about as saintly as Mother Theresa, drop a 'mother effer' at the dinner table when she was in the 6th grade. I guess she did it pretty casually as she was recounting something that happened at school that day. My mother was absolutely mortified and when asked about the words, my sister said she'd "heard it from the teenage kid next door a bunch of times." :lol3: My Dad has always been really proficient at cursing, but I've never once heard him use the F-word, so apparently even he was a little shaken up when his little princess let it fly over a family meal at such a young age.
 

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Rick Hall said:
S...tuff happens.
This is true.
I'd like to point out that unlike me, you will never hear my kids state that they have never heard their father use F-bombs. I didn't want to deprive them of such learning experiences.
 

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Dad became a Methodist minister, and his dad was a Quaker, so I heard no cursing from either until Grandpa was hospitalized near his end and declared, "I'm not eating that sh_t."
 

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:lol3: That's funny.

Wife's Grandfather was a self-ordained Preacher down in Sandy Hook KY and tobacco farmer. Had a small general store as well. Women worked the fields in long dresses, no card playing, and no movies allowed. Not sure where any were on the cussing scale. :huh:

I played golf with 3 senior Ministers from our large Church when I was about 18. OSU Course. Cracked me up how many S and D bombs flew around that crew. Didn't catch an F bomb but it might have been they had a young guest amongst them.
 

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Old Moose in his last season. Early goose with no cold water. These were his last geese and some of his last retrieves.
 

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Bittersweet photo, that. Will try to remember to post the coyote's last goose hunt next Monday - which now reminds me that I missed last Monday. So I'll post it now:

After a 10,000+ bird career, the old dog one might expect to die with a bird in his mouth was plainly done with it, and when I tried to "treat" him to a just he and me hunt, he was plainly happier just messing around in the flooded field, balked at getting in the blind and flat didn't want to be there:
034_2a.jpg


Still, he actually broke when I dropped a speck (which wasn't like him), then stood over it looking like he'd been pranked, before making a dutiful, rather than joyful, retrieve:
147a.jpg


Then dashed back into the water to mess around. I got the message, gathered my stuff, and a much happier old dog and I meandered the long way around the flood back to the truck. Never asked him to hunt again, just put in miles and miles of messin' around before he left us.
 

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Was hurrying to get the bug out for a few retrieves while the cooling dew was thick and omitted the point I'd set out to make: that your Moose sure looked a lot more proud going into retirement than Peake did.
 

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Rick Hall said:
Bittersweet photo, that. Will try to remember to post the coyote's last goose hunt next Monday - which now reminds me that I missed last Monday. So I'll post it now:

After a 10,000+ bird career, the old dog one might expect to die with a bird in his mouth was plainly done with it, and when I tried to "treat" him to a just he and me hunt, he was plainly happier just messing around in the flooded field, balked at getting in the blind and flat didn't want to be there:
View attachment 1

Still, he actually broke when I dropped a speck (which wasn't like him), then stood over it looking like he'd been pranked, before making a dutiful, rather than joyful, retrieve:


Then dashed back into the water to mess around. I got the message, gathered my stuff, and a much happier old dog and I meandered the long way around the flood back to the truck. Never asked him to hunt again, just put in miles and miles of messin' around before he left us.
Rick- I've always enjoyed reading your posts. Many of them are akin to reading content from Gun Dog, Field & Stream, or Outdoor life. This post being one of them.
 

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Locked&Loaded said:
Rick Hall said:
Bittersweet photo, that. Will try to remember to post the coyote's last goose hunt next Monday - which now reminds me that I missed last Monday. So I'll post it now:

After a 10,000+ bird career, the old dog one might expect to die with a bird in his mouth was plainly done with it, and when I tried to "treat" him to a just he and me hunt, he was plainly happier just messing around in the flooded field, balked at getting in the blind and flat didn't want to be there:
View attachment 1

Still, he actually broke when I dropped a speck (which wasn't like him), then stood over it looking like he'd been pranked, before making a dutiful, rather than joyful, retrieve:


Then dashed back into the water to mess around. I got the message, gathered my stuff, and a much happier old dog and I meandered the long way around the flood back to the truck. Never asked him to hunt again, just put in miles and miles of messin' around before he left us.
Rick- I've always enjoyed reading your posts. Many of them are akin to reading content from Gun Dog, Field & Stream, or Outdoor life. This post being one of them.
Shortly after reading I was hugging on Mac. The man has a way with words.
 

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Thanks, guys. (Can assure you the mags L&L cited all paid a whole lot better than DHC, but maybe with new own... naw.)
 
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