MOSSY -- a Rare & Special Hunting Partner

Well guys, I have shot some nice deer and caught some big fish but nothing even comes close to this event for me.

I am an avid duck hunter and I train my own dogs. I have trained several for other people and some real good ones. Any guy who does this dreams of that once in a lifetime dog.

The kind of dog that while your training it, you're really not. You're just awakening those natural insticts burried deep in the geans past on from his ancestors. The kind of dog that picks things up so fast and you can see him push himself to improve. Like a voice inside him is telling him exactly how to perform. Well, the dog I am bragging about today was that dog. A chocolate lab named Mossy.

Just before his second birthday and into his second season of retrieving waterfowl for me, Mossy was awesome. Steady, marked everything that flew close, handled and just would not come back to the boat or blind without that bird. At 92 lbs, he was all muscle and a fearless swimmer.

One morning while out alone with him, hunting the brackish water of the Indian River, it was overcast at first light and I knocked down a couple of early flying teal . Mossy did his job flawlesly and I knew we were off to a great morning of hunting. As the sun came up, the clouds passed and a bluebird day was upon us. Mossy and I sat for two hours watching duck after duck fly by and ignore every call we made. These birds were on a mission and visiting our spread was not part of it. After eating and drinking every snack and cup of coffee on the boat, I just had to drop my waders and take care of business.

I grabbed some tissue and walked back up in the mangroves a ways and took care of nature's call. As I was about done, I heard a faint and funny quack coming from the area of my decoy spread. I thought about Mossy back in the boat and was sure without me there he would break on those ducks and they would be gone.

As I was buttoning up my coat I could hear the sound pretty well and it did not sound like any duck I had ever heard. The sound was consistant and was sure coming from my spread. I picked up my shotgun and stalked quietly back to the boat. As I broke clear of the mangroves and could see the whole spread, two beautiful widgeon drakes lifted off the water and I reached out and touched them with some Heavy-Shot. The adrenalin was pumping and I was waiting for Mossy to leave the boat to get the downed birds. He didn't break, and I couldn't wait get back to the boat to send him.

When I got a few feet away from the boat I heard that call again. "What in the hell?" I said to myself. As I got to the gunnel of the boat. I looked over and there was Mossy with my extra call in his mouth. He had picked it up by the barrel and when he breathed in it made a funny quacking sound.

I reached in my pocket and pulled out my little single use camera (I always take one when I go out) and took this shot. The dog had called in those widgeon and had them waiting for me when I got back. He looked up at me like, "Oh no, Dad's gonna be pissed that I was chewing on his call." How could I be mad? He had done what I had been trying to do all morning. Hell, I left the call in his mouth and waded out and got the birds myself.

Mossy road home in the front seat that day. Wet and muddy, but who cared? He had earned it. He looked over at me from his side of the truck as if he knew he had done something special. He never road in the truck wet, and never in the front seat.

The same genes that made Mossy that once-in-lifetime dog played a cruel trick on him just a few months after that happened. He passed away just days after his second birthday. I will always remember his spirit and what happened that day. I will never stop bragging about it either.

Now that I have come to know about R&R Hunting Supply it made me think. Could I have taught him to use the TJ Hunter, instead of always peeing on my waders? All kidding a side, I hope all of you dog lovers get the chance to experience that rare and special one.

Allen Dye
Valkaria, FL