Annie's bio - Not a proper intro & Dad of the year (an Epic fail)

I started thinking of the best way for all the readers to get to know my crew (our 4 hunting dogs).  I have touched on all four at times already, but I want to paint a bit of a picture so that everyone can get to know them a little more intimately. So I decided to write a bit of a bio for each one about their history, and a good story or two from the field. I'll start with Annie.  I hope you enjoy.

Annie, our 7 1/2 year old Golden Retriever is the most affectionate dog that we have ever owned.  We got Annie when Ellie was 8 thinking we wanted Ellie to spend a few years with her to "train her up as a pet" (little did we know 7 years later Ellie would still be around).  Annie has a close connection with Baylee, and often times we wake up in the morning to find that Bay has brought her in and Annie will hide in bed with Bay until noon if we let them.  I enjoy hunting Annie, but I actually think we may be missing her calling as a therapy dog.  Here are couple short stories about Annie, and our days afield. Hope you enjoy. 

"Not a proper introduction"

We had Annie for about two years when I decided to see if she would hunt.  Having been around bird dogs before, but NO experience with training at the time.  I would say that Annie has turned out not because of me, but in spite of me.  Instead of giving her a proper introduction to birds and guns, I decided the best way to see if she would hunt was to just take her (do not try this at home, its a good way to ruin a bird dog).  My first inclination that she may have some ability was when were shooting clay pigeons in the back yard.  She payed no attention to the guns, and the pigeons that when we would miss, she would actually retrieve them back to us unbroken.

We were heading to Indiana for a visit over Thanksgiving, and we scheduled a pheasant hunt at a local put and take preserve. They had a guide service there but this time we were going to try it with Annie, and just see what happened.  We told the preserve manager what we were doing (trying Annie out), and he gave me a look like he knew what the outcome would be. He planted us 1 lone hen pheasant and came back to our truck.  "There you go fellas, go get em!"  We headed off into the field and Annie was noticeably excited.  We worked out into the middle of the field, and I see her tail starting to move quickly in a circular motion.  Suddenly she paused, and then pounced in!  The hen came busting out, and Dad or i shot the bird (I can't remember which).  The bird hit the ground, Annie marked it, and went straight to it.  As soon as she got to the dead bird, she backed up, turned, and hauled butt straight for the truck, paying no attention to our calls to come back! In disbelief, we picked up the bird and headed to the truck after her.  When we got back to the truck, she was actually in the floorboard of the back seat, not interested in getting back out. The preserve manager was laughing, and ask if we were ready for his guide services....

Determined that Annie must have gotten spooked, we tried it again. As if once was not traumatizing enough enough for her..... Reluctantly, she took to the field again hunting (Very cautiously).  Only this time when she found the bird, she didn't pounce in.  She scented the bird, paused and again she headed for the truck, this time not even flushing the bird! The preserve manager laughed at us again, A LOT!!  So at this point, we hired him for guide services, and Annie spent the rest of the day in the truck.  

I've already shared some stories, of what a great bird dog Annie has turned out to be. I've seen her bail off 8' cliffs into water to retrieve birds.  I've seen her run down wounded SD pheasants for over a 1/2 mile to make a retrieve.  And she has even shown that she has pointing tendencies (Dad says its from being around the Brittany's, but we all know better) As of lately, she will actually locate a bird, and hold it tight until we are close enough for a shot and then flush the bird, a remarkable ability for a relatively untrained dog.  But like I said, she has turned out in spite of me and not because of me.

"Dad of the year" (A parenting FAIL of epic proportion)

Fast forward a couple years....  Now by this time Annie has become a pretty good bird dog.  While she doesn't quite hunt with the unfailing determination of that the Brittany's do,  and her nose is not quite as long distance, but she loves to be out, and she is an excellent retriever.   It doesn't matter what it is, if it falls to the ground she is anxious to bring it back. 
Mid September 2013, its Dove season in Ohio.  Nolan, Owen and I are hunting down at Fallsville wildlife area.  Well Nolan and I are hunting, and Owen is along for the trip. (He's to young to be carrying a gun at this point)  The season has been in for a couple of weeks, and opening weekend festivities of controlled hunts, and thousands of birds are over.  Now its just the dedicated hunters, the ones that don't mind walking all day for 5 or 6 doves.  We're sneaking through a sunflower field, and I have Annie leashed to my belt.  Owen tugs on my shirt tail and whispers "Dad, can I help with Annie?" Trying to be a thoughtful, including father I say sure buddy, (Why not, right?)  I take her leash off my belt an hand it to him.  Then he asks, "Dad, can you put it on my belt like you had it on yours?" I think to myself, "What a  great idea".  So I lace it through his belt just as I had it on mine. After all the adjustments, we were good to go again. We head on down through the sunflower field, and in about another 100 feet a single loan dove blows out from my left, and passes in front of us, quartering away to my right.  I swing my over/under Beretta and down the dove about 80' out in front of us.  That's when I hear Owen scream! " Annie NO!!!!" in his high pitched fearful voice.  Annie too had seen the bird crash down to the ground, and knew that it was her job to retrieve it before anyone or anything else did. (Remember this is the same dog that bails of cliffs into water to make retrieves if needed)  Owen, 8 years old at the time, and only weighing in a little less then 50lbs was no match for Annie, a mature 60lbs retriever with one focus in life,  Getting that bird!  The tug of war didn't last long and Annie won, heading off in a dead sprint  for the bird dragging my scared 50lbs son like a light weight trailer behind a full size truck going down the interstate behind her.  They disappeared into the sunflowers, but I could see their location by the crashing down of the sunflower stalks, like a row of domino's falling one after another, as Annie drag him over row after row of flowers. (and from Owens screams of course) As I chased them through the flowers, and finally reach them, about the same time Annie reaches the bird.  Owen is no longer scared, now he's mad. Really mad, at me. I'm apologizing, and feeling like the worst dad in the world, when I hear Nolan laughing hysterically , and saying "that was Awesome"! Almost to the point of laying on the ground laughing. I carry him most of the way back to the truck and get him settled down, but he wouldn't hardly speak to me the rest of the way home.  Needless to say, our day was cut short, but this memory will last a life time.  I still feel guilty about not thinking through what could happen that day,  but now that its in the past and Owen had no serious injuries, and is back to being one of my best little buddies again.  We have all had a good laugh.

These are kind of life experiences that you just cannot duplicate in any other way.  Unfortunately, this one I will hold a little guilt for all time, but I still get a little chuckle and I know that Nolan does as well.

Thanks for being a good sport Owen, and not holding it against us. We love you buddy.   Dad

Annie - Success!

Annie after a hard days work!

Annie's Cliff - Hard to tell but 8' tall

Owen & the Dove that "He and Annie" retrieved ;/

Dove Hunting - Its become a tradition

Breakfast before - Another tradition

Nolan on the lookout, they come in FAST!

Success!!!!!

An annual tradition! Dove Nuggets wrapped in Bacon  YUM!!!

Happy Birthday old girl

"Old Dog" - A birthday celebration.

This is not a story of a life of hunting and adventures like most of what my posts will be but that of a great family pet. Gun-shy from the moment she heard thunder, and would hide in the closet at the mere site of a gun but deep in our hearts she resides and she always will.

15 years ago today the first family pet that our family would ever own was born.  7 weeks later Stacy brought home "Ellie" a Golden Retriever puppy, as a present for our second anniversary.  Needless to say, (being the dog person that I am) I was more then just a little bit excited.

Through her early years her story was probably a bit more like "Marley" from the movie "Marley and me".  She was by far the most destructive puppy that we have ever owned.  But just like an unruly child, we loved her.  We cleaned the trash up that she would tear out, (day after day after day). Picked up pieces of Longaburger baskets that she would chew, and potty training seemed like a year long process, and it was never an easy mess to clean up....

At about a year of age Stacy decided that Ellie needed to go to work with me (As opposed to staying home and destroying the house every day).  At the time I was working for Dads residential construction company and I agreed it was a great idea! So off to work we went, she would run around the job sites, chew on rocks and carry around short pieces of 2X4's. It was great, no trash to clean up at home. We were framing a house down near Eminence, and the soil was very sandy.  A couple weeks into it, we noticed a flee at home.  Then a day or two later more, and more, and more.  Until we were so over run with Flees that had to vacate the house.  We tried bombing, traps, treating Ellie.....  Nothing worked.  Finally we had to call the exterminator.  After 5 trips, we could finally stand to be in the house.  As it turned out she had gotten sand flees, and it was not fun getting rid of them.

Ellie, has been with our family since right after Nolan was born. She has been with us through our darkest of times, and our best of times.  She has licked the tears off of all our faces at one time or another. I remember when she was younger and someone would stop by the house. She would always stay in between visitors and the kids.  Not that she was ever super protective of the house, just the kids.  Its really remarkable that she is still with us, she was part of our family when we couldn't afford to buy dog food, so she lived on McDonald's cheeseburgers and anything we were getting rid of out of the frig for those days. (Maybe that's why she ate the trash too, lol). 

The truth of it is, she has been with us for so long that we just can't imagine her not being here. But we know the day is coming.  She can no longer hear when we call for her, she has to be carried up and down stairs, her eyes have fogged over nearing blindness, and she really can't find her food unless we put it right in front of her nose.  But she isn't in any pain, and she is as happy as a lark, much like an early stage Alzheimer patient. When she goes out into the fenced yard, she walks in circles trying to find her way.. So usually each evening one of the girls or Owen will go out the dog door, and lead her back in.  On warm sunny days, we'll start to pull out of the driveway. When we'll see her laying motionless in the yard sunning.  We always pause, and the car gets silent with everyone watching for the raise and fall of her chest... Still breathing.  Sometimes we'll get out of the vehicle, and have to try to get her attention just to see her move.  Yes she is nearing the time that she will leave us, and we will all cry when she does.  But for today, Happy Birthday Ellie-bell!! We Wish you had 15 more.

We love you Ellie ~ The entire Family

Ellie as a baby

 Annie and Ellie recent

 If you could see her smile, she has no teeth ;) and her head is a little crooked now...

 3 or 4 years ago Ellie and Annie

Bouncing Baby Brittany's

About a year ago we were at a pointing dog hunt test put on by the Weimaraner club of Cleveland, up in Cardington Ohio. Remi finished her 3rd leg scoring 2-9's and 2-10's.  During her run one of the judges actually directed me to remove her from the field, normally not a good sign. But in this case, she stated that she wanted me to remove her "before she finds every bird in the field, and doesn't leave any birds for the other dog in the brace". I smiled, and called her in, leashed her up and headed for the truck.  After I kenneled her up and went back to get the results from the judges, I was met my by a man asking when we planned to breed her.  At the time I wasn't certain if we were going to breed her or not, but I still found it interesting that someone else had seen what I have so many times in this dogs young life.  Simply put; brilliance in the field. She was handling like new car, turning to check in every time I hit the whistle.  Slamming to a stop from a dead run as she crossed scent from a single solitary quail. Holding her points and waiting for me (her cavalry) and retrieving the birds back to hand (which wasn't even required for that level)  In the short time he watched her he saw that she was loaded serious instinct. We can train skills in bird dogs, and in any dog really, but we can't train instinct.  A dog either has it or it doesn't, and this little lady is loaded with it.

So around that time, we decided that her DNA was too good not to carry on at least one time.  So we started looking for a suitable sire.  As you can imagine, not just any dog was going to be good enough for my little orange and white princess.  Our trainer, Mr. Hamer has a couple of males that I was considering, Both are serious bird dogs from great hunting stock, and would have been perfectly acceptable to me)  But In the mean time, Nolan had  purchased Colt. (The pup you see in the pictures) Colt is the offspring from Mr Hamer's two best dogs, Tessy, and Chip (Chip was one of the studs I was considering) 

Obviously it would be nice to have both the sire and the Dame on site for any possible buyers, but I wanted to make sure that Colt was as serious of a bird dog as Remi.  He went into training, and reacted to birds well showing interest and excitement (There was actually a picture in my first post of his introduction to birds).  Gun training was no problem, and there was plenty of instinct to point. He lacked confidence at times, but showed flashes of exactly what we were looking for.  He was coming along nicely, but it wasn't until our third day in South Dakota, the day before Thanksgiving that he earned the privilege of siring a litter with Remi. 

At the end of the second day of our trip, Colt got his first productive point and retrieve.  Luke and I were hunting up a row of Milo, when Colt locked up staunch.  I went in to flush the bird and big SD Rooster busted out, Luke downed the bird, and a second rooster came out late.  He crossed between Luke and I and we both missed when he got out front.  Colt saw the second bird take flight and chased him off towards Nebraska.  I stood there blowing the whistle, just knowing that I was going on a cross country hike to get him back when I saw him stop on my GPS and he headed back.  He came back in, and hunted the dead bird for a good 5 minutes, until he located him and brought him back.

After seeing this performance, Luke suggested that we give him the first run of the day the next morning.  We headed out, and put Colt on the ground for his big chance, and little did he know his big audition. (Remi was NOT Happy about Colt getting the first run)  In the first 2 hours of the day, I shot my entire days limit over Colt.  Nolan, and Luke both had productive points and retrieves with him as well.  All the birds, taken over Colt that day were text book dog work.  He handled those wild SD birds, like a 6 year old veteran.  Thus earning him the privilege of siring Remi's first littler of puppies.

Remi & Colts's litter was born on March 9th.  We had 8 Beautiful pups, 6 liver and white and 2 orange and white.  3 or 4 of the liver dogs look like they will be roan colored as well.  Their markings are simply stunning, and I have to say whomever takes these pups home, are very lucky,  These dogs are the perfect mix of gun dog, and best friend.  The pictures below, follow time line from Colt earning his stripes in SD through Remi Whelping this litter, and this morning 2 weeks after this litter was born we captured the first glimpses of them opening their eyes.

Enjoy the pictures ~ Thanks for reading.

Matt

Colt as a puppy trying to be a big dog

Colts first Rooster (Look at that tongue)

My limit over Colt

 Pretty Boy

Pregnancy belly 

 Remi in labor

 1/2 way through sweetie

 So tired

 Flex - Because she was born in the car!

Pile of Puppies

Headed to the Vet

Owen reading to Remi 2 years earlier and now Remi's babies

Hello Eyes

Hello World

So Tired....

Puppies first bath

How it all Got started

This is the story of our 3 Brittany’s, our family, and our adventures afield.  Since this blog is just starting in the middle of the story, I feel it necessary to give you a little history.  I first discovered this breed  that I love so much as a young boy in southern Indiana.  I come from a long line of hunters, but none were more in love with Upland hunting then my late great grandfather George Moore “Pop”.   My dad tells a story from his childhood of Pop in his 70’s at the time, while hunting in Fowler, Indiana. He recalls that on a cold morning, walking through a field hunting and seeing his grandfather raise his finger to shush him.  He instructed him to ready his shotgun, as he quietly laid his 12 gauge Browning on the ground, then launched himself through the air horizontally, pouncing onto a wild northern Indiana rooster.  He successfully caught it with his bare hands.  Dad says Pop is where I get my love for this sport, and that every time we set foot in a pheasant field, Pop is smiling down from Heaven.  I think he’s right.. As a boy we often hunted at preserve shoots with a guide, over well trained dogs.  That’s where I first encountered this Breed, and so started my love affaire with these 35lbs lion hearted bird slayers.  Though we spent a fair amount of time at preserves,  the blizzard of 78 largely decimated the wild bird population in the midwest so my hunting addiction would have to wait a few years to fully develop.

Fast Forward to September 2012
        By now in life I have been married to my best friend Stacy for 14 years, we have 4 beautiful children, (Nolan, Hunter, Baylee, and Owen) and we have relocated our family to central Ohio for work. I’ve spent the last 6 years deeply immersed in a very demanding 24/7 operation with work, which left very little time for any type of personal recreation.  Nearing a breaking point with stress from all the demands of this type of job, I started looking for an outlet for some time away.  I tried Deer hunting (another one of my youthful pastimes) but just found the vibration of my cell phone on silent continued to weigh me down with calls and emails from work that I just couldn’t let wait.
Around that time a close friend and coworker was talking about his annual,  upcoming trip with his lifelong best friend to North Dakota bird hunting.  He spoke about the vast plains, and the numerous species of upland birds, and the lack of cell service that he was looking forward to.  He went on to mention that the state of Ohio releases pinned raised pheasants for their own hunting season.  The light went off! I instantly called my dad, and told him about Ohio’s pheasant release program, and that he had to be there on opening day so we could bird hunt again.
Opening day of small game season rolled around, and we headed out to one of the local public hunting areas.  12 gauges, my new hunter orange vest (since my old one no longer fit), and Annie, our 4 year old Golden Retriever family Pet.  We were blown away at the number of “hunters” that were jammed into the parking areas, and waiting for first shooting light.  But that didn’t matter, we set off with the rest of the orange army, slowly spreading out, and eventually scattering into smaller groups.  We felt the rain of the lead, on our hats, and the shotgun blasts sounded like world war 3 had broke out in southern Ohio, but we were undeterred. That day we shot our limit over that untrained family pet, and she gladly retrieved every bird we downed.  At one point Annie bailed off of an 8’ cliff into water to recover a wounded bird, as iff she had done it a hundred times before,  As we watched the birds run up and down the black top roads,  we truly learned what the term “ditch chicken” really meant.
I got a speeding ticket while heading home that day because I was reliving the day in my head, and I couldn’t have cared less.  The desire was reawakened deep in my heart, and I could stop thinking about those days as a kid shooting birds, and watching the guides dogs work, pointing birds, retrieving and backing one another. I remembered hearing the handler saying “Whoa” and seeing the dog stop from a dead run. I went in the house and told Stacy that I wanted and needed my own bird dog.  She in her normal fashion said “then go get one Matt.” So I did.

I got on line, and started researching Brittany’s.  Quickly learning that you could not just find a Brittany on every street corner.  I researched blood lines, and identified that I wanted as close of a relative to “Buddy-Nolan’s last Bullet” as I could find (He was a 32 time NSTRA champion.)  I found a breeder that had a daughter of Buddy in Northeast Iowa, and as it turned out she had just whelped a litter September 9th 2012. The puppies would be ready in a few short weeks.  A couple weeks later I made a 14 hour trip to Iowa, to pick out for the first time my very own bird dog, Remington “Remi” an orange and white Roan little gal that would steel my heart, and at times take my breath away..

Now two years and six months later, I am the Vice President & hunt test secretary of the Buckeye Brittany Club, proud owner of two female Brittany’s (Remi & Nelli) and provider and handler for my 15 year old sons male Brittany (Colt). I’m understudying a gun dog trainer with +/- 40 years experience (who’s become a friend, and someone I look up to). We just whelped a beautiful litter of 8 well-bred Nolan’s last bullet & Grousetangle Brittany pups and have a waiting list for 6 of the 8.  We’ve made two successful trips to South Dakota pheasant hunting, multiple trips to Michigan, and PA Hunting Ruffed grouse and woodcock. Spent priceless time with my Dad, best friend, and sons chasing these dogs and birds across this country.  We have 2 Jr Hunting titles, and are working on Sr titles as we speak.  This has become so much more then just a little time away from work, its really gotten me back to my roots, connected me to great grandpa that I barely remember, and I’ve enjoyed every moment of it.  We’ll always have Brittanys moving forward in life, both as dynamite hunting dogs, but also as the closest of family pets.  I’m writing this blog to honor, my wife and kids for not only supporting my passion with these dogs, but encouraging me to have it and sharing it with me.   The dogs for the beautiful hard working best friends that they are, and for the friendships that have grown and been formed along the way.

The first series of pictures that I post will be a time line that follows the story I just told, and then moving forward we’ll take you through all the adventures of hunting, training, and loving these incredible dogs.

I hope you enjoy this journey and choose to take it with us.
Sincerely,
Matt Larison

Remi on a hot day

Annie our Golden

The house dog, like a pro!

Remi's baby Pic

Remi's first snow

Remi's first point (6 months old)

Pointing with style

Nelli training hard

Our hunting crew

 Annie in SD

 Remi 1st trip to SD

 My two Brittany Girls

 Colt locked up on a bird

 fruits of our labor

 3 generations

 one of my favorite new friends our trainer

Life long best friend in SD

 3 Generations in SD

 Proud Papa

 My two boys during youth season

The woman of my dreams and the dog of a                              lifetime.