Ina's father was an English Springer man just about his whole life.  And so it was that we would follow in his foot steps.

We found a pup that just won over our hearts, and he had strong blood lines.  At last we had our own bird dog!

For those that may not know, Springer Spaniels come in two colors, black and white, or, liver and white.  We stayed with tradition and went liver and white.  Another not well known fact is that Springers are either born to swim, or not.  Ranger was the later, not into swimming at all.  Though when he got on a rooster water never slowed him down.

The formal training done, and oh it was so long until his first bird season that very same year.  He sniffed here and there, he jumped over what he couldn't get under.  This was a whole new world to explore!

At the bottom of the first field he started acting birdy, he'd picked up scent.  The nose led the way and the scent was on the ground, so he looked more like a little bloodhound as he followed the trail.  Now this particular rooster was old and seasoned.  He knew if he flew he was done, so he led the pup on a merry chase.  I spotted him as he crossed a small creek that wasn't more than a foot or so wide.  And then he stopped and stood his ground.

Ranger got to the creek and the scent was gone.  That's when he looked up and there was a young Springer pup, nose to beak with that rooster that stood twice as tall as the pup!  He stared at the bird and started to quiver.  He took a step and then backed out of the water, the bird never moved.  He started to yip and quiver even more, and still that old rooster stood his ground.

Finally, the pup couldn't take it any more.  He was on the bird and feathers went everywhere.  The rooster must have figured it was fly or get eaten alive by a crazed pup.  He cackled and was up for the top of the trees.  He never made it.  Ranger was trying to find a way to get airborne to get that bird he wanted it so bad.  At the sound of the gun the rooster fell, and as he did Ranger was already in route to the final landing site.

He made an attempt to grab the bird but it was to big to get his little mouth around.  So he grabbed on to the rooster's head and started dragging him, backwards.  This wasn't working to well so he decided to turn around and drag the bird forward.  That might have worked if the bird was smaller, or the pup was bigger.  Each time he went to take a step he tripped on the bird.

At that point he must have figured it was time for the rooster to shed some weight so he dropped it, and then pounced on it.  There were feathers going everywhere!  One way or another, that bird was coming in.


I went over to him to give him a hand.  The second I reached down for the bird the pup was off!  That bird was out of commission, it was off to find another one, one that wanted to play proper.

Ranger's idea of fun was to have birds in the air, lots of them if possible.  More than once he had no less than 3 take wing.  And he fully expected them to all come down.  If I missed one he'd give me that look, the one that you could see plain as day.  Having an off day Dad?

As they hit the ground he'd run over and check to see what state the bird was in.  If it didn't move he'd put a paw on it until I went to pick it up.  Then it was off to bird number two.  This one is yours dad, he's had it.  But if the bird so much as twitched once, or made an attempt to run he'd lose it!  He'd jump on that bird and just about pluck it clean.

Brian had cleared one of the areas along a rock wall.  Ranger hit hard.  He was over the wall, on the wall, and in the wall.  There was no doubt a bird had been there.

As hard as we looked we could not see a bird.  But the pup wouldn't give up.  He spent some 10 minutes working that rock wall, he knew there was a rooster in there someplace.

Finally, the bird cackled and jumped into flight.  There was no way I was letting that bird go after as hard as the pup had worked to get him up.  I jumped on it not more that 6 feet off the ground and cut it right in half not more than 10 yards off the gun barrel.

Brian yelled  "Dog Meat!" as the bird hit the ground.  Ranger went over and checked the bird out.  That one is done Dad, let's go get another.

Now roosters can play some nasty tricks on a pup.  One in particular is the bird in the tree trick.  This is where the dog marks the flight and heads straight over there.  He knows the bird is in the tree and he makes every attempt to climb the tree to get at it.  When that doesn't work the next thing to do is try to jump up in the tree, yipping all the time.  It makes for quite the fuss in the swamp.  Only when the bird is flushed from the tree, downed, and in the pup's reach was he finally happy.

The better a Springer is in the field, the sooner he will go into business for himself.  Over time, they figure out that it is them that gets the birds in the air.  When there are no birds flying there are no gun reports, and no birds falling from the sky.  The pup becomes bored with the pace and decides to take the fields and swamps into his own paws.

Now he'll range out, out beyond shotgun range.  He'll put up birds and they will clearly be out beyond the limits of the gun.  This angers the pup as no birds are falling.  He becomes fevered, literally flushing birds everywhere.  It's time to reign him in.  Usually, a short jaunt on the leash will get the message across.  But not in Ranger's case.

So this Dad leashed him to a log and sat down to take a rest as the pup had worn him ragged trying to keep up.  Ranger yipped and jumped and made a big fuss.  After being ignored for a few minutes he started pulling the log and putting up birds!  There just was no stopping him from his intend mission.  When he was in the field it was never a matter if the bird was going to go up, the only question was when.  Those that refused to fly, or those that were slow getting up in the air were caught.  Sometimes we would hear a rooster cackle and soon after the pup jumped 3 feet in the air and had the bird!

For the younger hunter the English Springer is hard to beat.  They are deadly on pheasants, grouse, and woodcock.

As said earlier, Ranger was not a water dog.  He'd tear through the swamps and come out soaked, but if a bird went down in a river it could float to the ocean as he was not about to swim for it.  Now his female counter part was another story.  Abby would swim for hours on end in a beaver pond and dearly loved the water.

We had a cruiser docked in Lake Winnipesauke and we'd take the pups out for a trip around the lake.  Both of the pups thought it was just the berries. One time when we came in to the dock after our outing the pups jumped out on the dock.  While I was tying down the boat Abby pushed Ranger off the dock right into the lake.   The loud plunk came first, and then the frantic splashing.  Being on the other side of the 26 foot boat there was no fast way to get there.  Ina managed to grab the leash and fish him out of the lake.  Abby thought that was about the funniest thing she'd ever seen.  Ranger, oh was he ever mad!

Somehow, it got to be my fault because I wasn't there to rescue him.  He was sitting in the middle of the seat in the truck and I asked him how he was doing.  Just stuck his nose in the air and looked the other way!  It was better than 3 days before he let me up.  We still chuckle over that incident many years later.

They are with us for such a short time, but the days in the field and the memories are always with us.  We miss you buddy.