Clipper

This article appeared in Retriever Journal - February/March 1996

written by Butch Goodwin

of                     

Northern Flight Retrievers  

Gordon Shafer handles the calling,
while Dual Ch. & AFC Coot's Gypsy Clipper,MH watches the sky.

This is a tribute to Dual Ch. & AFC Coot's Gypsy Clipper, MH. "Clipper" is the only living Dual Champion (show and field trial) in the Chesapeake breed; he is also an Amateur Field Champion and a Master Hunter. There have been a total of only eleven Dual Champions in the history of the breed. He is the only Dual Champion of any retriever breed alive today, and the only retriever ever to hold the titles of Dual Champion and Master Hunter. The best part is, he spends his hunting seasons at my kennel and we hunt ducks together. I had to write this.
                        - Butch Goodwin

ometimes I wonder why I hunt. Getting up in the middle of the night at O-dark-thirty and pulling on still-damp waders is not really my idea of fun. Some get up at this blackened hour to go jogging - we go hunting. Some dump themselves out of bed, brew up a pot of coffee, and rush to get to the office - we go hunting. Why is it that millions of necktie-laden commuters work day-in and day-out to get a day off only to sleep and watch TV through their precious, hard-earned time-off? There is so much to do, so much to see. They miss the sunrises.

   Sometimes I wonder why I slog through knee-deep muck carrying a bag full of stiff, frosted decoys, my fingers frozen from the numbing water as I position them exactly. The slightest breeze causes my burning eyes to water, the tears freezing on my cheeks. The damp chill of the ice fog causes a tightness in me like a dog raising its hackles while I watch the sky for movement - always watching, always hoping that the next cold front will be the one that brings in the big flights of northerns. Training dogs through three-fourths of the calendar just to be prepared for those dwindling few moments, when the payoff comes. Always thankful that I am lucky enough to have the opportunity to stand beside these fine and talented animals. No stadium full of supporters. Results are always a surprise. No guarantee. This is how it's supposed to be.

   Usually I go it alone. Without human company, that is. The dogs get upset when I don't choose them this day; more get left behind than get to go - their turns will come. "Take me. Oh please take me." Beautiful brown and black noses pushed through the chainlink. They see the shotgun, they know. But today is not their day. I hate the look in their eyes, the look of total rejection, the deepest of disappointment. I can't look at them without feeling guilty as I snap their kennels closed. Maybe tomorrow.

   Today is the old man's day. He's not one of mine, but I feel like he is. On the downside of life, we have only a few more seasons of hunting together - maybe one, maybe two. He came into this world as a gun dog, and he'll go out as a gun dog. Along the way he took a few detours and made a positive difference in the Chesapeake breed.

   Do you think that dogs understand that they are getting old? Do you think that such proud royalty understands that they have achieved what only ten others in history have? Sure, he has his detractors - all of the great ones do. Mostly jealousy, I feel. Mantle, Louis, Lombardi, Jordan - they've all known what it is like.

   Standing at the absolute peak of the Chesapeake breed, he's been called a piece of living history, perhaps the last of the natural retrievers. Whether in a trial, training, or out hunting, he always just seems to understand. The years of training and trialing are beginning to show. He's still tough and primitive. "A four-wheel drive in a field of sports cars." That sums it up. He has already made his mark; he has nothing to prove to anyone. He deserves his retirement. Ducks are all that are on his mind today.

   I'm proud to say he's my friend. Proud that I've been allowed the opportunity to stand beside him. Proud to have him beside me in the duck blind. Now at eleven years , the fire still burns. His eyes still plead, "Just one more bird, please." He has the soft temperament of dependability. But with all of the titles, his greatest title will come from the quality of his progeny. His legacy is in those who follow, those whose veins course with his blood.

   Today he's just another duck dog. The job could be handled by a youngster. I doubt that it could be handled any better. I peek through the cracks in t he blind while another does the calling. Yellow eyes watch the sky and anticipate the settling of the ducks. I watch as he flattens himself into the mud, like a sprinter in the blocks, ready to sprint. Wings are set, ducks are landing. The only sound audible over the chuckle of the call is the cadence of his tail against the side of the blind. This is why we have come today. This is why I hunt.

   Many great dog's never had the opportunities he has. It takes money and tireless training to bring out the best in a great dog and to put him on top. He has had both. The breed should be thankful for the generosity of Dr. Tom Ivey and the seemingly endless training and exhaustive miles driven by Linda Harger. The Chesapeake breed is better off because of these people and the breed's future is brighter because of Clipper.