Hunting Springer Spaniel puppies for sale

I was living in Colorado in those days, and my hunting was a mish mash of whatever I could scrape together: a lot of waterfowling with as many snipe and pheasants as I could find in the woefully crowded public hunting areas, as well as bobwhite quail on my infrequent trips back home to Iowa.

My plucky little spaniel, Poke, handled them all with style and intensity. Ducks were a particular case in point. Although you can certainly make the case that a spaniel isn’t as tough as a Lab or Chesapeake, I defy anyone to prove to me that a good springer doesn’t have every bit as much drive to retrieve.

I hunted Poke in everything from tepid Colorado sloughs to the brawling, ice-choked rivers of Montana and he never failed to perform; never once balked at a retrieve, no matter how brutal the conditions. I finally learned that if there were limitations on what he could do, they would have to be imposed by me.

But the reality is that springer spaniels aren’t the best choice for some kinds of hunting. Sure, they’ll hunt wide-open country for Huns and sharptails—I’ve done plenty of it—but it’s not their forte. Sure, they’ll break through ice to retrieve a mallard, but that’s asking a lot of a thin-coated dog that might weigh 45 pounds dripping wet.

Leave the open country birds and serious waterfowling for the dogs that are bred for that kind of stuff, the pointing and retrieving breeds. Spaniels really shine for small-water ducking and thick-cover upland birds—bobwhite quail, woodcock, ruffed grouse…and, oh yes, pheasants.

If ever a dog was created to hunt pheasants, it is the springer spaniel. I simply can’t understand why the breed isn’t more popular, given the vast number of rooster hunters in the U.S., but there you go. The really good ones—and I had one like that—can be almost wizard-like in the way they approach the game.

Here’s an example. Years ago when Poke was still alive, I put him down on the bank of a Montana irrigation canal, and 20 minutes later he struck scent. I followed him as best I could as he raced ahead of me, tracking a bird that was hell bent on high-tailing it out of the country. Finally, he spun, pounced, and put the rooster into the air.