dc240nt
PMA Member
The last day of the Pheasant season came (Sunday) and I decided to take my pup out for one last run. We headed to a large cattail slough that we had worked a few days earlier that had held allot of birds. Because of the below freezing temps I didn't get out there until 3 pm, figuring that Elsie would be able to handle the cold for the hour and a half till sundown. We entered the slough and walked across the ice to the far side, maybe 5/8 of a mile from the pickup. As soon as we got close to the cattails, it was apparent that Elsie was picking up bird scent. When she entered the cattails she took 4 or 5 high jumps and locked up on point. Of coarse I couldn't see her on point because of the cattails, but I knew from experience what was up. I hurried myself into position and just waited; knowing that sooner or later that bird would tire of looking her eye to eye and would flush. Sure enough, it didn't take long and a nice rooster takes flight. I was in great position and didn't have any trouble dropping it. Elsie watches the bird fall and takes off in her high leaps over the cattails to retrieve the bird. I watch her make a half a dozen or so leaps when she suddenly disappears. I think "all-right, another bird", so I position myself and again wait on the bird to flush. But it never did, and after a minute I began to question my dog, something I have learned not to do. So I waited some more. Something didn't seem right and it's now getting close to two minutes with no movement or sound from Elsie's location. I called her name and I hear a soft sound. I call again and I heard the worst sound I could have ever imagined at that time, the sound of open water! I charged into the cattails and there was my pup, barely clinging to the ice, her whole body submerged in the water with only her head and front paws above water. I tried calling her to me but it was obvious she was depleted. To go around the creek and come in from the other side where I could reach her would have taken time that she didn't have. The hole in the ice was only about 5 foot across but there was nothing I could do. I knew I would have to go in and get her. I didn't have any idea how deep the water was, but I found out when I took one more forward step. The ice broke out from under me and in I went, all the way to mid chest. I really have no idea if I touched bottom or not or if I caught myself on the ice. Either way didn't matter, I was in trouble. I had to throw Elsie on top of the ice in order for there to be any room in the hole to maneuver into a position to get myself out. She was so spent that as soon as I got her out of the water, she immediately lay down and curled into a ball. Problem was she was right in my way, she had to continue to move forward or I wasn't getting out. I kept pushing her and yelling at her and she eventually gave me a little room. After a tremendous struggle, I was finally able to get out of the water and up on the ice. I rolled away from the hole and tried standing up, which seemed practically impossible at the moment. I took 2 or 3 steps and fell down in the snow and cattails. I laid there for a couple seconds seemingly completely exhausted. My lungs felt like they were being ripped out of my chest, I could barely breathe, and I've never felt my chest and heart pound like it was. I seriously thought I was going to have a heart-attack! I fought my way back onto my feet and started charging through the cattails out to the CRP. Once there the snow was well over my knees. I grabbed Elsie and carried her for about 100 yards along the cattails. We finally came to a spot where I had walked out of the slough a few days earlier. We headed for the ice and easier walking. I put my dog down and much to my amazement, she went right back to hunting. I didn't want anything to do with that so I tried to keep her alongside of me. She insisted on hunting! At this point I made a decision that I feel really made a difference in our well being, I unzipped my coveralls pocket and got my pickup keys in my hand. I'm glad I did because by the time we got to the pickup all my zippers were froze up and my hands were frozen to the point of being useless. Without those keys (electric key fob) it would have been another 3 mile walk to the nearest farmhouse. I may have made it, and that is questionable, but I really don't believe my dog would have made that trip. When we got into the pickup and had it running the temp was -12F and the radio said it was -36F wind chill. We made it! I don’t know how long I was in the water, but I’ll guess it was close to a full minute. The whole time I never let go of my gun, and looking back that was part of my struggle because I had one arm tied up. I personally feel the main thing that kept me alive was the Gore-Tex pants and jacket I had on. I was wet from head to toe, but I wasn't completely soaked like I would have been with wearing something like cotton, canvas, or fleece. Another factor was a never quit attitude that we both displayed. She's a tough hound, and to go right back to the hunt shows a ton of heart on her part! Once I had the pickup warmed up a little, I stripped down to my boxers and drove home like that. My feet were frozen pretty bad and I was really worried about my hands. But all turned out well and now it's just another hunting story. An now I can't wait till next bird season....because I've got a hunting dog!
