The Old Man and Jake PT. 5

The sleep came easy last night despite the shortcomings of his hotel bed. Jake’s dreams seemed to be filled with birds as he whimpered throughout the night. The old man found himself not dreadful of the alarm clock ringing at 4am, but instead, he was elated. He knew that the sunrise would bring a promise of ducks and he was looking forward to it.

The heated vents in the cab of the old pickup chipped away at the icy chill of the pre-dawn morning. The old man sipped away at his steaming truck stop coffee while Jake laid curled in a ball in the passenger seat. They were headed back to the same slough as yesterday morning under the clear skies of a sure cold front.

The grass parking lot only showed memory of the old man’s truck and he parked in his usual spot. Sliding on his waxed Filson coat, the man set about dragging his decoys to the makeshift blind of yesterday.

He set the decoys with the wind in mind. A brisk norther was blowing to his back and he made sure to leave an inviting pocket on the south side of his spread. Jake found his place beside the old man in the cattail reeds and they sipped in the chilly morning air.

It wasn’t long before the rising sun began chasing away the stars in the night sky. Silhouettes of birds moved through and the old man could distinguish the tight balls of teal from the looser formed groups of northern mallards.

Jake whined as a flock of teal buzzed over the decoys and left unscathed. The old man stroked the dogs neck and whispered, “Not today boy, today we are shooting big ducks only.”

Soon after, the first group of big ducks began to work. A group of 5 mallards were lined up down wind from the old man, their wings stiffened making an even descent down over the slough. When they passed over head, the old man let out a feed chuckle that eased into a pleading hail call. The group banked in unison back around the waters edge, making their way to the decoys on the water in front. The old man let them come. When the first duck touched the water he lifted and shot. His first target fell inches to the water and the second barrel sent a fleeing duck down 10 yards further.

All the while the waiting bird dog was waiting on one word, “Jake!”, and he was off. His long legs bounding through the knee deep muck, splashing ice cold water as he went. With both birds picked up the man gave the old dog a gentle pet on the top of the head and leaned back against his makeshift bed of reeds.

“Today is going to be another great day”, He said aloud.