Colts Bio - (The Big Sweetie)

Sorry for the delay.  My busy season at work, the girls Club Volleyball, travel baseball, and Lacrosse season are all in full swing. All making it a little difficult to have time to write as much as I like. I hope you enjoy!

Introducing "Grousetangle's Nolan's Blazin Colt" - Call Name "Colt"

An interesting name no doubt. Colt is named after his linage from the Grousetangle hunting line out of Plain City, Ohio. His daddy is Grouetangle's Chip, a strapping liver and white Britt who is an expert pheasant dog. His mother is Grousetangle's KK Contessa, a sweet little liver and white grouse dog of epic proportion. Together, they're truly two of the finest bird dogs that I have ever had the privilege of getting to know, and hunt over.  They both spend a large amount of time working as guides, and are good depictions of what I want my dogs to be.  They are truly "brag dogs" in all essence of the term.  When we brought Colt home he had a beautiful white blaze between his eyes, hence "blazing" and he is Nolan's dog, so he picked the name Colt.  Staying with our tradition of naming our dogs after guns.

This is his story.

Colt was whelped on July 4, 2013, his breeder is Mr. Hamer, our gun dog trainer, and good friend from the bird dog community. Colt was one of two beautiful male pups that came from that litter.  Knowing that Chip and Tesssi had whelped a litter we stopped by one day just to let the kids see the new puppies. (And Stacy and I might have been excited to see them too:)) Nolan instantly fell in love with Colt, and ask if we could get him.  I was hesitant, since we had not had Nelli that long at the time.  I ask Nolan if he had the money to buy him (all the while knowing the answer), "No" he said, "but I would be willing to sell my dirt bike, if you would let me get him".  Stacy and I spoke about it and decided that if Nolan was serious, that he wanted a bird dog bad enough to sell his dirt bike, that maybe we should let him.  So with that, Nolan was 1 less dirt bike and we were 1 additional bird dog!  A damn good trade if you ask me....

As a puppy, Colt was a soft dog, wanting as much attention as he could get, and being ambitions to please.  We often referred to him (and still do) as "the big sweetie".  With our small house, and large number of dogs, it was decided that Colt would have to be an outside dog, though I have said many times that I think he could have been the best house dog with his calm personality, and sweet disposition.  At about 6 months, Colt began training with Mr. Hamer.  He was introduced to birds and guns, and the reaction was just as  you would expect to both (for a dog coming from his linage).  Couldn't get enough of the birds, and couldn't care less about the guns.  As anticipated he was a quick study, and learned to hunt and find birds with determination and intelligence. Showing great pointing instinct, and an excellent drive to hunt, Nolan decided to try to put an AKC Jr hunting title on him.

Colt had been coming along nicely working with Mr. Hamer and I. But now the question was, how would he respond to 14 year old boy? Nolan's voice was not as deep, and his authority was not as obvious as that of a grown man.  Would he show him the respect and submit to his authority in the field, or would he blow him off and hunt for himself?  Well it makes me proud to let you know that not only did Nolan put a Junior title on that dog, but he also earned himself an AKC Junior handler title. It wasn't a flawless run to this accomplishment, but the lessons learned for both of them along the way they'll never forget.  I recall one of the hunt tests that didn't go so well for them.  Colt had decided to blow off Nolan's commands in the field, and ran off hunting for himself, resulting in a failing score.  Nolan was so mad at Colt that he almost wouldn't even acknowledge him on the ride home. After he settled down he said he was so mad because he had spent/lost his own money $45 (that was part of the deal, he had to pay for his own entries) to enter him in that test, and then Colt acted like a fool, and wasted it.  What a great lesson for a teenager to learn. What it's like for a parent to invest in their child and then have them ignore their advice, and in turn waste their resources. Right Parents.

But they forged on, and eventually finished their titles with a solid run up in Cardington at Keaton Farms scoring all 9's and 10's.  Lots of folks noticed the nice dog work, and the young man handling him.  Nolan was even approached by an AKC rep for an interview about he and Colt. They both make us proud, and have already learned tons of life lessons working together. As you can probably imagine the bird dog community is not the youngest of associations in terms of members age. At 36 I am a young man in the group, so Nolan is viewed as really young. Its been remarkable to see how they have opened their arms to Nolan.  They include him in work days, even when I cannot be there.  He get words of encouragement and advice from all the older crowd on a regular basis.  But of all the advice he has received none has been more meaningful then that which was given from Mr. Hamer and his life long best friend Dr. Martin.  When they learned that Nolan had sold his dirt bike to buy his own hunting dog, they though that was really something neat.  So they went in together and bought him a really nice training book, and wrote this message. "To Nolan, we trust that you will get the same enjoyment out of your bird dog as we have out of ours over the last 50 years. Be Fair, firm, and have fun.  To Staunch points, and hard flying birds.  All the best." Jim Hamer & Dr. George Martin  If you ask me the statement "Be fair, firm, and have fun" is not just advice for handling a dog, but really advice you can live by.

Now, a year later, Colt is still "a big sweetie", and the spitting image of his daddy Groustangles's Chip.  He is a born natural on wild birds, and as I wrote about previously has sired a beautiful litter of 8 healthy pups with Remi.  Nolan has learned that nothing worth having comes easily, and I have seen his willingness to work time and time again.  Just last summer he cut grass all summer to earn enough money to purchase himself a new Beretta shotgun. His goal for this gun, to take down a wild South Dakota rooster over "HIS" boy Colt.  Well last Thanksgiving day that is exactly what they did.

Colt is the youngest of our crew, and while I may have a few less stories thus far about him, It's only because he's only been through one hunting season. I'm certain there are a lot to come with him & Nolan in the future.

The pictures below follow the story of Colt.

I hope you enjoyed, Please follow and comment.

Sincerely,

Matt Larison

 Colt meets Remi & Nelli

Colts first Christmas tree Hunt - a Larison family tradition

 Colts first point

 His first season training

 Colts first rooster

 Cots trying to be a big dog

 Advice to live by

Nolan and Colt get their titles

This kid makes me proud.

first passing score - they have come a long way.

Nelli's Bio - A life of survival

Meet "Larison's Benelli" AKA "Nelli"

Nelli is our 3 1/2 year old liver and white female, and this is her story...

Nelli was whelped out of two serious bird dogs in 2011. Her mother was "Grousetangle KK Contessa" and her father was a field trial champ out of Cleveland. Just like the rest of the beautiful, birdy pups in this litter, she was reserved at an early age, and was destined for greatness in the field, and at a loving home.  At the 6 week check up, just prior to going to their new homes, her breeder received devastating news. The vet was listening to the puppies hearts. When he came to Nelli, he looked up and said, "Jim, I'm sorry but you can't sell this pup. She has a whole in her heart." He went on to tell Jim that she wouldn't live to see 6 months of age.   Disappointed, Jim had to notify the folks that were going to purchase this sweet little female of her heart condition, and that he could not in good conscience sell her to anyone. Brokenhearted the buyers shed tears because of the news, and sadly, Jim took the pup home, and put her in one of his kennels, to wait for her to die. 

She was given the name "Grousetangle Ariel" (I think by Jim's granddaughters) and the days passed as they waited for that sad day that they knew would come. At about six months of age, Jim decided that since she had made it this long, he might as well go ahead and put her into his training program and get her started with birds and guns.  After all, she was bred for hunting in the first place.  She took to it quickly, pointing birds with style and retrieving. She was a close working dog, that was steady on point, just exactly what you would expect from well bred dog.  One day Jim was bringing her back in after a training workout.  He took a dead quail that he had shot during training. Fired it out in the lake and gave the fetch command. That little gal hit the water like a lab, with no hesitation. She swam out and made the retrieve, and brought the bird back.  She was eager to please, to say the least.

Training continued, and at about a year she had to be spayed. It was a tough decision because the vet said that she very well may not come out of anesthesia. But with male dogs around, they could not risk having this sick little pup getting bred. Once again this little miracle dog overcame the odds, this time surviving surgery. 

Life went on as normal for Ariel,  and when she was about a year and 1/2 old is when I first met her. Jim was training Remi up at his hunt club one day, and I met him there as I often do. I peaked in to his kennel (to see which of his collection of brag dogs he had with him that day) and I saw this sweet little, timid face, that resembled Tessi, only younger.  So I ask who it was, and then I listened to the story I just told. 

Overtime, I got to know "Ariel" (AKA Nelli) and Jim rather well.  I just fell in love with Nelli, her sweet disposition, and her story of survival. So I went home and talked to Stacy about the possibility of a second Brittany. In her normal supportive way, she agreed that I should talk to Jim about her. This time with 1 condition, we had to fence the yard. I approached Jim about "Ariel", and ask him if he would consider selling her to us. He said that he would not take anymore then what he  had paid for her surgery, but would like nothing more then to see her at a hunting home with kids for her to play with. But he went on to warn me yet again, that she is going to break our hearts some day unexpectedly. We struck a deal for her to join our family, and the only condition was that I had to hunt her as she was bread to do,

Jim offered to let us take her home to play with the kids, and meet the other dogs as often as we wanted, while I worked in getting a fence put in. So we had our first (pre adoption) play date.   It was the first of many, and Stacy and kids all fell in love with her just as I had. The other dogs welcomed her in like part of the family. 

On May 26, 2012, she came home for good, and as much as I wish that is where her trials ended, it was not...

We had "Nelli" at the vet getting her heart checked out, and our vet also confirmed that this was the worst murmur that she had ever heard.  Sharon (Our vet) suggested that we have her heart-worm tested.  As If it wasn't sad enough that this little gal had a hole in her heart, Can you believe that she also tested positive for heart worms.  Now we had to make a tough decision about this dog.  "Was her heart strong enough to withstand heart-worm treatments"?  After much consideration, and council from our vet, we decided it was best for Nelli to go forward with the treatment.  A grueling process of injecting the dog with just the right amount of Arsenic. (Enough to kill the worms, but not the dog) This, followed by 6 weeks of recover, where the dog is at risk of a stroke.  Nelli in her usual fashion, handled it like a champion.  While she was as sick a chemo patient, and lost a lot of weight during the process, again she came through!

We've recently had her heart checked again, and while she still has a serious murmur, and eventually, she will fall victim to congestive heart failure,  it has drastically improved, and we're hopeful that she will live near average life in terms of length, but she has already far exceeded her original prognosis.

A story from the field:

Hunting with Nelli is just a bit a different then hunting over any of my other dogs.  Nelli naturally hunts closer, and at slower pace.  Working very methodically, and almost never working so fast that she tires.  She is a "sneaky & quiet" hunter, almost like she knows her own physical limitations, and I will never push them.  We just work slowly, and enjoy every moment we have together in the field.  When I sit down to take rest, while Remi and Colt will continue to hunt until I'm ready to join them again, not Nelli.  She too will rest, at my feet (or lap if I let her) as long as I want to sit.  We joke that she has the fastest tongue in the mid-west, because if your not paying attention, you'll find it gliding across your face before you know it.

The first fall that I had her, I was guiding for a group of youth hunters during the early youth season, down at Ceasers creek.  It was early season and it was a warm day, yet she was working at her normal cautious pace. We were working our way up a long hedge row, crossing a 5-10 mph wind.  As she work up the row just 5 or 10 yards in front of my row of hunters, she slammed on the breaks, bent 90 degrees into the hedge row and froze.  Her right paw lifted into the air, tail perfectly straight and motionless, except for the full body quiver that taken over her in excitement.  "Point" I holler to my shooters, as a notice to ready their shotguns.  I walk in front of her to flush the bird for my shooters, and 20 feet inside the hedge row, a single lone rooster busts out passing in front of all 4 of my young hunters.  All 4 empty their shotguns, and the bird flies off into the southern sky unscathed.   As Nelli watches the bird fly away, she doesn't waste the energy chasing it like a younger immature pup might.  She just looks up at me, as if to say "Rookies" (nearly shaking her head).  I give her rub, tell her good girl, and pat her on the head to release her back to hunting.  We repeated this process, a couple other times throughout that day, but Nelli continued to work for us, as if every bird she found, we were able to bag.  We finally did down a bird for her that day, and she recovered it just like she is supposed to.  What a great day it was, both for those boys, and for this sick little liver sweetheart.  I guess she never got the memo that she is supposed to be sick.

Nelli has forever won a place in our hearts for her sweet disposition, and her will to overcome.  It seems funny that a dog could be a source of motivation, but to me that is exactly what she is.  I'm thankful for every trip that we make to the field, and as long as she is able she will be in truck with the others as we head out on our trips.  Hope you enjoyed her story, and the pics that follow her timeline.

Sincerely,

Matt Larison

Please follow and Comment :)

Nelli - The day she and Remi first met 4-16-12

Nelli!Remi!

Nelli becoming part of the family

Pretty girl! I love that nose!

 Both girls with passing scores

 Nelli on point in training

 Her first trip to SD

 My lap dog! in SD!

 Her first MI Woodcock & mine too!

 I've posted this one before, but I just love it,

We love you Nelli girl! :)

Bouncing Baby Brittany's (Update)

Hi Everyone, just wanted to post a quick update with some glamour shots of the babies who were 4 weeks old on Monday. 7 of them are spoken for, but there is still time to reserve the last one!

I hope you enjoy the pics!

Meet "Flex" - Because she was born in then Car! (Soon to be Emma at her forever home)

Meet "Pharell" - because his markings are "Happy, Happy, Happy"!

See his Smiley face!

Meet "Slim" (Or soon to be "Weasly" at his new home) Because he has orange hair!

See why we called him "Slim"

Meet "Monroe" Because of his beauty marks on his cheeks! (His rear cheeks)

Meet "What" check out her ? on her back!

Meet "Mini" This Liver Roan beauty sports Mini Mouse on her back!

Meet "Flurry"Another liver roan Female, this one with a "snowman" on her back

Meet "Encore" Our last Liver roan beauty (She is staying in the family)

Special thanks for my Photographers! Hunter & Stacy

Stay tuned... Nearly complete with Nelli's Bio - posting soon, (Hint - Bring a tissue!)

Thanks, and Please... Follow & Comment!

Sincerely,

Matt Larison

Meet "Remi" - Remi's Bio

Introducing "Larison's Remington" AKA "Remi" or as my wife so fondly refers to her; "The other woman".

Remi is my 2 1/2 year old orange & white (roan) Brittany, and she is largely the reason why I started this blog in the first place The stories about her could go on and on for days, and I look forward to sharing them with you.

Remi is from Northeast Iowa, on a large farm.  The Breeder has been producing high quality Brittany pups for a long time.  Purposefully crossing the strongest of hunting lines (Nolan's last bullet), with lines focused on temperament (The Maverick line).  The result (at least in this case) is the best 4 legged friend I've ever had, and the hunting instinct that many will only read about in bird hunting magazines.  Coincidentally, both of her lines of heritage have been featured at different times in those magazines.

When the litter was whelped I had reserved 2nd pick with a deposit. (Only because someone else beat me to first pick)  Right at about 6 weeks old, the breeder called and ask if I could select my dog from the pictures online.  He had 6 other people that were waiting to make their selection, and they could not proceed until I had picked mine.  I had previously planned to wait a couple weeks longer and travel to Iowa over thanksgiving.  But in light of the rush, and totally opposed to picking out my pup from pictures online, I dropped what I was doing and headed north west.  I spent the night about 1/2 way, and finished the drive the next morning.

When I arrived at the farm, I was met by the Dam and the sire of the litter.  Both friendly, and beautiful dogs.  I introduced myself to the breeder, and he took me on a quick tour of the place.  Even letting me see his dogs hunt, and point birds on his property.  (He released quail periodically)   I then followed him to his garage to see the puppies.  Seven little orange and white Brittany's all excited to see me!  I knelt down by the short puppy fence, and started petting puppies.  Remi immediately took note of me, and was in my arms in seconds.  In an effort to give all the puppies a fair look, I tried to set her down and move on.  She wouldn't have it, she whimpered, barked, and jumped up on my leg until I picked her up again.  We took all the puppies out in the front yard, and once more I tried to walk away from her to check out a beautiful orange and white cleanly marked male.  Still, Remi made it clear that no other dog was getting in that blue truck for drive back to Ohio.  She chose me, without any doubt in my mind.  The breeder laughed and ask if she was the one I would have picked from pictures and I told him possibly, but there was no doubt about it now.

Upon arriving home late that evening, Stacy met us at the door.  She reached out and rubbed Remi's ears, and Remi let out the tiniest little puppy growl that you have ever heard.  Still to this day, each morning when she gets up, we have to get her growls out of her ears.  We have now figured out (since she has whelped her own litter) that some of her puppies have the same reaction to getting their ears rubbed.

After immersing myself in bird dog training books, (Not the same method I took with Annie) I learned that no part of training was more important than the bond between man and dog. Its this bond that creates an urge to please in the animal for its master.  Its that bond, that allows us to communicate in the field without saying a word.  Knowing your animal so well that you literately understand whats going just by their body language. (Which is pretty important since their English isn't very good) So I decided that Remi would go with me every day, everywhere, if anyway possible, she would go.  As it turns out, I have best boss in the world, and I work in a satellite office where there really isn't much traffic in and out so taking her work was easy. She became very accustomed our routine, and is the perfect traveling buddy, office dog, and hunting companion. Most often if you see me out, she too will be sitting there in the passenger seat beside me.  The bond between her and I has grown very strong.  So strong that its actually kind of funny.  If I leave her in the truck and run into a gas station, she will actually cry and whine looking out the window, anticipating my return.  If I leave her inside while I go out to the barn, she will climb up on the back of the couch, and watch me out the window then meet me at the door when I come back in.  And If I leave her at home, to go somewhere that she can't, well she will just wait on the landing until I return home.

I have so many stories to tell about this girl, that it was a struggle to pick two for this post.  So here are two good ones, more to come in the future.

I was shopping at TSC one day, and of course Remi was in the truck.  When a gentlemen walked in the front door of TSC, and said loudly "Who's dog is this in the blue Ford?"  Reluctantly, I said mine. (Never know what your going to get hit with over leaving a dog in a truck)  He said "Sir, that is the smartest dog that I have ever seen in my life." Confused, I said "Okay, please explain"  He said "When I was walking into the store, I passed in front of your truck. As I did she blew the horn at me."  Startled, and dumbfounded that a dog just blew a horn, I backed up in front of the truck again.  Same thing! She blew the horn at me again! I repeated this one more time just to prove to myself that I wasn't going crazy, and sure enough the third time as well.  I laughed and said, yes I knew that she has learned to do that, as well as turning on the flashers.  Now that is smart dog he said. I have to agree, but I may not be an unbiased source.

Remi meets her first SD Rooster

November 1, 2013 we made our first journey to Ideal South Dakota.  Excited for the trip of a lifetime, along side with my son Nolan, my Dad Don, and best friend Luke we traveled 18 hours across the mid-west, spending the night somewhere in Nebraska for a short nap, and then back on the road.  As long of a trip as it was for the 4 of us, who sat comfortably in my quad cab truck (and it was long).  The trip had to be even longer in a dog box in the back of the truck for the 3 that made the first trip. (Remi, Annie, and Nelli) They obviously new that something was up, but no way to know just what....  When we finally arrived, on Saturday afternoon we just couldn't wait any longer to get into a SD bird field, and give our best shot at bringing down a big SD rooster. Excited to see just what my year old pride and joy would do when introduced to a wild bird, she cam out of the kennel like she was shot out of a gun.  I threw her beeper collar, and GPS collar on and we were ready to go. As we set out, from the old rustic farmhouse that we stay at in Ideal, Remi a 12 month old pup had 24 hours of pent up energy and now excitement ready to explode. We headed east on foot up the quarter section dirt road between two corn fields, and we were off.  Remi was expectantly running around like a juvenile knowing exactly what the collars meant (We were hunting) At this point she had also been through tons of training, she was already a good little bird dog.  But what happened next would blow both of our minds.  She paused, as if to point a bird, like she had before, but then the sky turned black with SD pheasants roosters and hens.  Hundreds of them flushing wild from 30 yards to 100 yards out in front of us.  Remi's eyes lit up like she had just hit the pheasant mega millions, and the race was on! The juvenile dog, forgot everything that she was ever taught about bird hunting, and obedience and chased that wild flush of pheasants into the standing corn 300 hundred yards ahead.  Luckily for I had my nice new sport dog GPS collar on her, so I wasn't to worried until I looked at it to see where she was, and all it said was "No Signal" great, what Now?!  I had spent a better part of 2013 training for a 5K mud run, and now it was time to put it to good use.  Calling her name, as I am running through corn stubble, 300 yards and into the standing corn I go.  Fully into panic mode, wondering if I will ever find this dog again who has become such a companion to me. 

The search continued on and on through the standing corn, blowing my whistle, and calling her name until I went horse.  Finally, I came out the other side of the standing corn, she was no where to be found.  Every so often I would see more pheasants taking to flight in the distance, and I can only assume that was still here busting birds as she ran bird crazed through the country side.  As I came out of the corn there was a fence on the property line. I walked north along the fence line until I came to a bit of a crest.  I paused to see if I could here the faint sound of her beeper collar off in the distance, Nothing.   I was nearly sick to my stomach, both from running, and from the fear of what might happen to this young dog.   When all the sudden 4 or 5 hundred yards away, I could see her little orange head bobbing up and down to look around through the thigh-high grass.  She was to far away to hear my whistle, or my calls. So I shouldered my 12 gauge, and fired both barrels, one after another into the air.  It Worked! She was heading my direction! I continued calling her, and blowing my whistle. Finally at about 100 yards out she could see me. As she reached the rear quarter section path, she came to an all out sprint.  As she neared, I could see that she too was as distraught, as was I.  As she came near to me, actually leaped the barbed wire fence and right into my arms, crying and whining like a long lost child that just found her way home (and licking my face).  I sighed a huge sigh of relief as I embraced her like the welcoming home of the prodigal son. Then I remembered how mad I was that she ran off at all.  I put her under my right arm, and walked right through all that standing corn, marched the 300 yards right on through the picked fields, and all the way back to that farm house.  Put her in the kennel, and sat down to count my blessings. 

As the week progressed, she matured right before my eyes.  She learned to handle those wild birds, and we had a lot of fun, and success that week.  But I will never our first 15 minutes in a South Dakota bird field, and the next hour and 1/2 trying to find our way back together.  She sure has come a long way since that day.....

The following pictures follow the story above.

Thanks for reading, and Please feel free to comment and follow!

Sincerely,

Matt Larison

Meet Remi the same day I did

Love at first site

The long drive home - Tired Baby

Remi's first day of work

Using a straw ;)

Doing her thing

a cat nap - in a truck

That is her spot!

........

The is the farm we hunt in SD

The rustic farmhouse

The 1/4 section road where I nearly lost her

Pretty countryside we hunted

Our first snow in SD

Dad's favorite SD pic

Success on our first trip!