The day started out like any other autumn weekend. I loaded my hunting buddy, Tucker (a brittany), some water, food and the usual necessities for a short day of pheasant hunting, into my Suburban and headed off into the beautiful North Dakota countryside.
Now, I said I was driving a Suburban, so it’s a given that I needed to get fuel, so I drove a few blocks to the nearest convienience store and started to gas up, leaving Tucker roaming in the cab, all the while wearing his flourecenent orange/yellow protective vest. I noticed a car pull up next to my truck and a few times I noticed the passenger of the vehicle pointing at my dog and talking to the driver, who had gotten out to put fuel in the car.
I went inside to pick up a few last-minute provisions and pay and strolled back out to the truck. The car that had been fueling next to me started to pull away, but stopped once it got past my Suburban. I was approached by the passenger, who said she was admiring my dog while I was in the store.
To fully set the scene, I was dressed in hunting brush pants with protective layers on the front, a hunting shirt with a pheasant on the pocket and several orange patches on the shoulders and forearms. Tucker had a protective vest, electronic collar and a bell (so I can tell where he is in heavy cover). There was an unloaded shotgun on the front seat, a box of shells on the dashboard, a P.L.O.T.S. map on the center arm of the seat, and binoculars in the passenger seat.
The lady approached me and in a very pleasant manner asked if she could see Tucker. I called him to the front seat, and he greeted her like he does everyone, rear-end waving back and forth and eagerly waiting to be petted. She said she noticed the vest and asked if he was a rescue dog. I said that we were headed out hunting, and the vest was so I could see him better and also to protect his coat and underside from fences and tangles.
Her demeanor instantly changed from pleasant to hostile. She stepped back from the dog and me, and squared up, looking ready to argue.
The next words are so ignorant that I couldn’t make them up. She said, and I quote, “How can you FORCE that dog to hunt?”
Force? FORCE? The last thing I have to do with Tucker to get him out hunting is FORCE him to come with. She obviously missed the comical display today, or every other day we go hunting. Tucker gets excited almost to the point of causing damage to our home. He runs wildly through the house and whines constantly until I get fully dressed and can get him into the truck. My wife and daughter stand by and laugh as he acts like a kid who can’t wait to go to McDonalds. There is no FORCING him to go hunting.
I explained all of this to the woman, and she stated that she didn’t care for hunting and feels sorry for these dogs who are pushed beyond their physical means and mistreated.
I could have done one of two things here. I could have stayed at the gas station and had a discussion on the merits of hunting, the charateristics of this dog breed, and how my particular dog is treated. Or, I could just end the discussion and leave, getting on with my fun day spent alone in the prairies of North Dakota with Tucker.
I simply stated that I did not wish to continue this discussion, got in my truck, and drove off. I didn’t look back to see her expression, or if she had any more to say, but I did stop the truck later down the road to make sure no PETA stickers or other propaganda had been placed on my truck, which hadn’t.
So why write this blog post? Simply for this… it could happen to you. I’ve heard of this happening and never though it would be here in North Dakota, where the hunting heritage is pretty much taken for granted. I thought about how much worse it could have been. She could have let Tucker loose while I was inside, or worse yet, take him. She could have sabotaged my vehicle and drove off. She could have plastered my vehicle with anti-hunting propaganda messages.
This anti-hunting movement is real. It is invading further and further each and every day, and if allowed to continue to gain momentum, will destroy a valuable source of taxpayer dollars that go towards conservation, a source of commerce for small-towns and income for many landowners, and a recreational activity for friends and families across the nation.
I regret not taking more time to argue with this woman, if only to make sure she heard the argument FOR hunting, and for me to continue to hear the counter-arguments. Educate yourselves, educate your friends, educate your kids, and take your dogs hunting.
But don’t FORCE them, that would be mean.
Attention Deer Hunters: