Funny happenings when beating/picking up/loading

bogtrotter

Well-Known Member
Jamross suggested this so I'll kick it off


As a young keeper in my teens I had a black lab, great nose but could be a bit enthusiastic at times to say the least, the fact that we had a big rabbit problem at the time, and I used him for rabbiting probably did not help, his party piece was to jump on top of the heaps of branches left by the foresters, quickly jump of again and watch for the rabbit bolting which he invariably caught.


On a shoot day my game bag was always full, and it was a standing joke that me and my dog made up for any failing that a gun might have.


One day on a big commercial at the flush point he was hunting ten yards ahead and ignored me when I called him into heel.

I ran forward caught him and was pointing out the error of his ways to him, when an irate beater asked me what I thought I was doing to his dog, it was only then I realised mine was glued to my heel.
 
Same dog as previous post, Laird on the spur of the moment decided he would try a flight pond one night, I was sent with him to pickup, not a good flight not many ducks came in and were very late could not see a think from where I was sat but he did get a dozen shots or so and he was not guilty of missing much, I had only picked up two when the laird called across from the other side of the pond asking how I was doing, only the two I replied, he burst out laughing and said that dog just gets better and better, I have never shot so bad never hit a bloody thing.
 
My old spaniel (a big old fasioned type) had the dubious honor of being the only dog who had retrieved,
A live cat!
Dead fox,
We watched him one day trying to drag back a dead ewe,Just a bit heavy for him.
The captains wire haired daschound (still alive! Phew!)
And finaly on a local shoot we rounded a corner to be surprised by a whole bunch of piglets .Off he went and dodged the sow and retrieved to hand a squeeling bundle of future bacon!

Going to miss the old boy!:cry:
 
I was loading for a gun who shall remain nameless who after the third day of loading for him asked for my address and said, I find it very embarrassing to give money to friend what I would much rather do is give you a nice gift,

Do not expect it immediately as I wish to take time to choose something that is just right for you.

It must be one really special gift as that was twenty five years ago and I'm still waiting.


If you happen to be reading this PM me for my present address I have moved since then:rofl:
 
My old boss who was standing behind one of the guns on a pheasant day. The pheasants were driven of the South Downs over large beach trees. Every time the gun missed a bird the boss said to him, I could have killed that one sir. Or the time one of the guns wives fell face dowin the snow and the boss helped her up and brushed the snow off her chest and said, there thats better madam.
 
At the end of a drive someone picked a red legged partridge, now we had plenty greys but no redlegs on the ground
the lairds wife called to the head keeper as he passed, where would the red leg come from Jimmy? he replied without breaking stride, out of an egg Madam.
 
If I think back there will be plenty of funnies over the years, but one which happened last season still tickles me.
I was helping a neighbouring keeper on one of his bosses days picking up behind the lines. The estate in question is wet and muddy even in a drought, and my team of Cockers were sh#t up to the eye balls when the guns stopped for elevenses.
The game cart was parked with the guns vehicles and I carried my pickings to it for the birds to be sorted. After a quick natter with the other lads I became aware that the usual glued to my ankles Cockers were no where to be seen.
After a couple of shouts to call them back I got a nudge from the head keeper and a nod towards a very expensive new Range Rover with its back open where two of my very wet and muddy dogs were stood on the back seats staring back at me and looking very smug with themselves.
A quick blast on the whistle bought them bounding back to heel, without the Vouge owner noticing, but where was Meg? So I called the eldest of my dogs without respose, my call to heel got louder and must have finally roused her because with a toot of the Range Rovers horn the old sod jumped up from the drivers seat putting her feet on the steering wheel, first looking out of the windscreen and then back at me.
"Get in you old sod" and back she came making sure she had wiped as much filth off her body as possible on the interior.
Well the lads round the game cart were in stitches, and as I preparded to melt into the back ground I noticed the head keepers dog......
With a grin on my face I turned to him and said "think my dogs are bad" I laughed "how about your lab" and I turned him back to where the guns were stood where his dog was ****ing in his bosses open hamper full of goodies.
 
26 years ago I started here,my first single handed position.

The first day of our brand new syndicate had arrived.
Our bothy was a 30 foot caravan.
All the guns were inside having our first safety talk.
In the middle of our little circle,was my ever so impressive little spaniel bitch cra**ing on the carpet!!!!!
 
Not really funny as such but a visiting gun decided to straddle a barbwire fence tried step over slipped and split his testicles open and needed three stitches this was only after having the snip a month before the incident he was not amused in the slightest I can assure you....
 
Local day with my pals last year and Willie had brought the young dog on his first day along with his steady old boy.

Pheasant shot off ran the old dog swiftly followed by the pup who grabbed the other of the bird which was duly retreived by both.

"Hells teeth Wullie" called Hamish "but these are heavy burds ye huv hereabouts, it's 'tain yer twa dugs tae cairry that yin".

H
 
Used to do some loading on a very expensive shoot.
One day were on point walking up a steeply sided valley. The shoot owner and host is just behind us and I can hear the gamekeepers chit chat.
'There's a huge covey of partridge in front of us. Were attempting to bring them round' gamekeeper says
'How many' shoot owner
' bout 300' gamekeeper
'Take it easy' shoot owner
'Oh bloody hell they've gone, they've gone' gamekeeper
At which I look up and about 100 yds in front of us at chest height are coming 300 partridge. Now I considered throwing a very expensive gun on the ground and diving for cover but thought better of it and just ducked. Then looked up and to my amazement my walking gun is there firing directly into the bunch. I quickly hand him his gun and stuff another couple of rounds in whilst it sounds like a hurricane passes over our heads. The valley resounds to the sound of guns going off
Bang-bang, Bang-bang x8 all the way down the valley.
Total bag; 3
Should've bought a tennis racket
 
"how about your lab" and I turned him back to where the guns were stood where his dog was ****ing in his bosses open hamper full of goodies - reminds me of a time when I was a kid walking to school one morning with a friend, his Mum and two black labs. We all stopped to cross a road and as we waited for the cars to pass my left leg from about the knee down got very warm and wet... try explaining to your teacher in every class that the reason you smell like you've ****ed yourself is because a Lab cocked it's leg on you - I've always been a Spaniel lover since!

When I had my first springer many years ago I was out for a walk before tea one Sunday afternoon with a young lady I was getting to know. She had a springer too and we were all getting on rather well.

As we walked back into the yard at her parents farm both spaniels disappeared round a corner out of site. Imagine my horror when mine returned with one of her Mum's hens in it's mouth and a big grin on its face! I was never asked back and we went our separate ways not long after (me and the young lady that is, the dog went on for a good few years after!)
 
I remember packing my lunch before a shoot day with a lovely bunch of home made pork pies ready to share.I left them in my basket on the kitchen table before grabbing them all in a hurry the following morning,while going after the geese.

Well during the day I was telling everyone they were in for a treat,and that they were about to have the best pork pie ever.
Lunch came and I went to the front of the land rover,where I couldn't find the bloody pies.

The dog got the blame that,he somehow must have climbed over the back seat and scoffed the lot quietly,and I called him every name under the sun.
Until,some smart arse pulled the pies from behind his back over a brew,bloody hell weve never laughed so much.
I now lock my car on shoot days.
 
I remember in my keeping days we were on a drivin grouse day. we stoped for lunch
when the under keeper had the lunch on the front of the quad when the front wheels went in to a rut flipping the bike and the lunch was in a muddy mess the beater were not very happy that day.The under keeper was fine just realy dirty
 
I remember one day at the end of a shoot we were all standing waiting for a picker up to return when one of the lady's announced "oh here comes Sandy now with a lovely cock in his hand " we'll to say there were a few chuckles was an understatement .
 
Picking up a day on pheasants and one of the trialling brigade was there with her 3 bitch labs trying to get in some work before a pending test. During the day she seemed to keep going to the back end of one of them and dabbing at it with a cloth soaked in a liquid from a bottle she was carrying. One of the guys eventually asked her what she was doing. She replied that she was applying TCP to its vulva area as the dog was in season and this was her wayof stopping the smell attracting other dogs! The reply fromthe bloke was, 'you can dab away all day with TCP if you want, but that is one split that will never heal...'

She didn't laugh...
 
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in the early 60s on a grouse moor in yorkshire ( one that has recently made news over heather burning ) well the beaters had met up and the drive had got under way it was late shooting and the birds had started to pack when a huge pack got the flankers working hard ,apart from the one nearest the butts ,he was filling his pipe ,the shouting jarred him into action ,pipe in one hand and a lenghth of bacca in the other ,flag in the heather, he jumped up and by sheer luck turned the birds ,along the lenghth of the butts about 30 yards out ,and made great shooting ,the flankers at the other end sent them back onto the drive where they dropped in to be lifted again .After the drive was over one of the guns produced a tin of sliced bacca ,and told me to give it the flanker and ask if he wanted a lad as a loader
 
Not while beating or picking up but it was hillarious at the time!
The best laugh I had was on one of our club clay shoots. We have one member that is quite a joker and always taking the mickey out of others (In the nicest way) I decided to have a laugh on him that day. I had an electronic caller with a remote that I took with me. While setting out the traps I carefully hid the caller under the trap nearest the shooting cages and turned it on to stabdbye. When it was this chaps turn to shoot I waited behind the shooter with the guy on the button. A shout of "PULL" came out followed by a band and a powdered clay. At the exact time the clay shattered I managed to use the remote to turn the caller on to give a distressed hare call, which on this caller sounded just like a woman screaming. As the clay shattered this screaming was heard and look on the shooters face was a treat as he nearly passed out thinking he has shot someone. We all just fell about laughing and even today he watches me like a hawk whenever I am behind him and he is about to shoot!
Little things please little minds I surpose!
 
One incident that really sticks in my mind and did happen while we were beating involved my wife. To say she is frightened of cattle is a bit of an understatement. On this particular drive the keeper sent her out to flag in any birds that decided to try to take a wide berth. She walked up a banking to the position she was surposed to be in quite happily but when she got there she suddenly noticed a herd of young bullocks trotting towards her - They had obviously thought that she had come out to feed them. Well, one sight of these cattle trotting towards her was enough and she turned tail and ran. The next thing we saw was her leaping over a barbed wire fence and breathing a sigh of relief thinking she was safe from these "mad stampeding cattle". (I never realised that she could run so fast or jump so high) You should have seen her face when the cattle realised that the fence was down just a few yards up from where she was standing and the cattle just trotted round to her side of the fence forcing her to leap back over the fence!
By all accounts the keeper was aware of her fear of cattle and sent her to this point on purpose and both him, me and all of the other beaters almost wet ourselves laughing at the situation. The wife didn't find it so amusing however and spent the rest of the day threatening to do some serious damage to our private parts at every opportunity she got!
 
While loading for a Canadian on the same estate Bogtrotter works at. He was watching the head keeper working the beaters. He then turned to me and asked." Does the headkeeper and the other keepers have another job to go to when the season is Finished"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 
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