DOGGETT AT LARGE by Joe Doggett – September/October 2020
HUNTING TAKES WING – September/October 2020
August 26, 2020
EDITOR’S NOTES by Chester Moore – September/October 2020
August 26, 2020
Looking for Dove
THE EASIEST BIRD to spot on the ground undoubtedly is the ostrich. One of the hardest birds to find on the ground is a downed dove.
This especially is true amid thick cover or uneven terrain—and when the hunter diverts his attention from the shot. Accurately marking the fall, following it all the way down and promptly pacing to the spot are the key to a high percentage of recovered doves.
Keep in mind that many casual dove hunters do not own trained retrievers. The typical afternoon shoot is a do-it-yourself program.
This is worth stressing as the 2020 dove seasons open across Texas. The obligation of each conscientious hunter is to make a legitimate effort to recover all birds knocked downed within reasonable reach. Moral duties aside, failure to do so is against the law—”wanton waste.”
Two factors conspire to hamper the recovery. First, the mourning dove is the smallest of our primary game birds. Mature mourners average about 4 1/2 ounces. Chunky whitewings are scarcely an ounce heavier. Both diminutive species can be easily swallowed by even a slight hiccup in the terrain.
Second, the plumage of a mourning dove is drab mix of browns and grays and tans—and both sexes look the same. This is because mourners are primarily ground feeders. Conversely, males of most game birds are gaudy—easier to spot. Greenhead mallards and bull sprigs and cock pheasants come to mind.
In short, anywhere this side of the nearest putting green or parking lot, the frustrated hunter who fails to claim a quick and accurate mark doesn’t have much to work with.
On the upside, two factors can aid the savvy shooter.
First, doves are loose-feathered. The lighter breast feathers can be knocked free by a ripping pellet or a tumbling fall. A cluster of fluff amid weeds or tall grass almost certainly pegs the location of the downed bird. (In a stiff breeze the bird may fall a bit upwind of trailing plumage.)
Second, the “dusted” dove that hits the ground but is unable to fly again seldom runs far. This is a huge plus for a dog-less recovery, and more than can be said for a scampering quail or a swimming duck. Also, a wounded dove often flutters, stirring the screening brush.
However, the crippled dove that slants down and lands with some semblance of control might be able to take flight again. The hunter is well advised to approach with a ready gun (making certain the potential field of fire is safe).
Ironically, the hardest dove to recover might be the one that folds instantly. If the bird thumps breast-down with wings tight, it looks precisely like a hundred dirt clods or grain husks within sight. It’s right there on plowed ground and stone dead and—where did it go?
To repeat, regardless of field clutter, the foundation for finding downed doves is to watch the fall all the way down and promptly advance. Admittedly, this sometimes is hard to do, especially under a flurry of action.
Any nearby cry of “Over you! Over you!” or “Coming in! Coming in!” is a strong bet to derail the all-important focus. Even when a single is rolled from empty sky, the temptation is great to look around to see if any buddies witnessed the smooth gun handling. Even a glance down to paw through the belt pouch and reload can divert attention.
Under a hot flight the cool hand might crumple three or four doves in rapid succession—no major problem at close distances and over open ground (sandy low-water tank banks are fine examples). A flashy double can be trip highlight, so long as both birds fall within the same quadrant.
But be wary of taking one coming in, another going away. Accurate marks become difficult, a good way lose one or both birds. The disciplined shooter avoids these situations. The sweaty frustration of trying to find two confusing falls can be considerable when other doves are whizzing overhead. This is a fine time to recall the old adage, “A bird in the hand…”
Most doves are knocked down at between 25 and maybe 40 yards—not so far. Put the gun on safety and start pacing straight as a ruler to the presumed mark. It should be easy.
The occasional wounded bird that sails well beyond 50 yards can be a different matter, and it’s a sad reality of wingshooting. If the dove lands on relatively open ground, give it a go. However, the bird that carries beyond 100 yards, or topples from sight over a thick levee or brush line almost certainly is beyond reasonable recovery. Counting the lost bird on the daily limit is a commendable gesture, but no law requires this.
It’s a common mistake to overestimate the distance on in-range falls and pace too far before seriously starting to search. Remember, an honest 50 yards is a long way over the rib of an upland shotgun barrel.
If the presumed “Ground Zero” seems empty, identify the spot before expanding the search. It can provide a reliable point of reference amid a sea of sameness. A broken grain stalk or a bright shotgun shell is a handy marker. Dropping the hunting cap works; but be advised that following an expanded patrol, a camo cap might harder to find than the dove.
A good trick is to place two shotshells maybe six or eight feet apart on the same line as the straight approach. Stay on that line before slowly and meticulously widening the search (either in expanding circles or back-and-forth grids).
Sixty years of experience convinces me that the dove hunter who faithfully follows this drill should recover almost all clean falls; in fact, it’s rare to lose one.
Email Joe Doggett at ContactUs@fishgame.com
Looking for Dove
THE EASIEST BIRD to spot on the ground undoubtedly is the ostrich. One of the hardest birds to find on the ground is a downed dove.
This especially is true amid thick cover or uneven terrain—and when the hunter diverts his attention from the shot. Accurately marking the fall, following it all the way down and promptly pacing to the spot are the key to a high percentage of recovered doves.
Keep in mind that many casual dove hunters do not own trained retrievers. The typical afternoon shoot is a do-it-yourself program.
This is worth stressing as the 2020 dove seasons open across Texas. The obligation of each conscientious hunter is to make a legitimate effort to recover all birds knocked downed within reasonable reach. Moral duties aside, failure to do so is against the law—”wanton waste.”
Two factors conspire to hamper the recovery. First, the mourning dove is the smallest of our primary game birds. Mature mourners average about 4 1/2 ounces. Chunky whitewings are scarcely an ounce heavier. Both diminutive species can be easily swallowed by even a slight hiccup in the terrain.
Second, the plumage of a mourning dove is drab mix of browns and grays and tans—and both sexes look the same. This is because mourners are primarily ground feeders. Conversely, males of most game birds are gaudy—easier to spot. Greenhead mallards and bull sprigs and cock pheasants come to mind.
In short, anywhere this side of the nearest putting green or parking lot, the frustrated hunter who fails to claim a quick and accurate mark doesn’t have much to work with.
On the upside, two factors can aid the savvy shooter.
First, doves are loose-feathered. The lighter breast feathers can be knocked free by a ripping pellet or a tumbling fall. A cluster of fluff amid weeds or tall grass almost certainly pegs the location of the downed bird. (In a stiff breeze the bird may fall a bit upwind of trailing plumage.)
Second, the “dusted” dove that hits the ground but is unable to fly again seldom runs far. This is a huge plus for a dog-less recovery, and more than can be said for a scampering quail or a swimming duck. Also, a wounded dove often flutters, stirring the screening brush.
However, the crippled dove that slants down and lands with some semblance of control might be able to take flight again. The hunter is well advised to approach with a ready gun (making certain the potential field of fire is safe).
Ironically, the hardest dove to recover might be the one that folds instantly. If the bird thumps breast-down with wings tight, it looks precisely like a hundred dirt clods or grain husks within sight. It’s right there on plowed ground and stone dead and—where did it go?
To repeat, regardless of field clutter, the foundation for finding downed doves is to watch the fall all the way down and promptly advance. Admittedly, this sometimes is hard to do, especially under a flurry of action.
Any nearby cry of “Over you! Over you!” or “Coming in! Coming in!” is a strong bet to derail the all-important focus. Even when a single is rolled from empty sky, the temptation is great to look around to see if any buddies witnessed the smooth gun handling. Even a glance down to paw through the belt pouch and reload can divert attention.
Under a hot flight the cool hand might crumple three or four doves in rapid succession—no major problem at close distances and over open ground (sandy low-water tank banks are fine examples). A flashy double can be trip highlight, so long as both birds fall within the same quadrant.
But be wary of taking one coming in, another going away. Accurate marks become difficult, a good way lose one or both birds. The disciplined shooter avoids these situations. The sweaty frustration of trying to find two confusing falls can be considerable when other doves are whizzing overhead. This is a fine time to recall the old adage, “A bird in the hand...”
Most doves are knocked down at between 25 and maybe 40 yards—not so far. Put the gun on safety and start pacing straight as a ruler to the presumed mark. It should be easy.
The occasional wounded bird that sails well beyond 50 yards can be a different matter, and it’s a sad reality of wingshooting. If the dove lands on relatively open ground, give it a go. However, the bird that carries beyond 100 yards, or topples from sight over a thick levee or brush line almost certainly is beyond reasonable recovery. Counting the lost bird on the daily limit is a commendable gesture, but no law requires this.
It’s a common mistake to overestimate the distance on in-range falls and pace too far before seriously starting to search. Remember, an honest 50 yards is a long way over the rib of an upland shotgun barrel.
If the presumed “Ground Zero” seems empty, identify the spot before expanding the search. It can provide a reliable point of reference amid a sea of sameness. A broken grain stalk or a bright shotgun shell is a handy marker. Dropping the hunting cap works; but be advised that following an expanded patrol, a camo cap might harder to find than the dove.
A good trick is to place two shotshells maybe six or eight feet apart on the same line as the straight approach. Stay on that line before slowly and meticulously widening the search (either in expanding circles or back-and-forth grids).
Sixty years of experience convinces me that the dove hunter who faithfully follows this drill should recover almost all clean falls; in fact, it’s rare to lose one.
Email Joe Doggett at ContactUs@fishgame.com
