As I tossed the first three then four decoys out and returned to the bag, I noticed we were running a little behind because the first rays of purple were now gold streaked with sailor’s warning red. I decided to load my Mossberg just incase. Zeek seemed to transform as he heard the shells compress the spring of my magazine with a “squeeeekthump … squeeeekthump, then… rack! rack!..., squeeeekthump”. As I finished loading up it was as if a switch had flipped inside him and his duck radar had crackled into life… he was watching the sky.
When the next two decoys hit the water I heard him start to whine ever so slightly. Twirling around I saw him locked on something in the sky. I followed his gaze up to the sky where a few pairs of mallards were dusting the far tree line. “Holy Crap - Ducks!” I ran for Zeek and the decoy bag where I had propped the Mossberg…and slid in beside him as if to home plate. Making it back to my knees while grabbing my Olt call I managed to turn a pair. Some how during the melee to grab my shotgun Zeek, who had never taken his eyes off the ducks, and I had gotten face to face. I was on my knees and I mean we were nose to nose! I realized then and there… as I was “feed chuckling” I had no idea where the ducks were but Zeek was still on them. He looked like a hoot owl as the ducks were falling in and circling behind him.
Then something happened I’ll never forget…
The ducks made their final passing circle. They flew from behind Zeek to behind me, just above the tree line. In that moment time seemed to stand still. In Zeek’s unblinking gaze I could see the ducks. In the clear gold purple sky just above the tree line inside Zeek’s eyes I saw them circle, cup, and commit. Zeek seemed to tell me to “take’em” as the whoosh of their whistling wings back peddled and obligated them to our little pool.
The rest I guess was my instinct… as the Mossberg thundered I managed to drop the greenhead behind some cattails on the far side. Zeek sat frozen for a moment looking at me like you missed one. I just grinned and said “Back!”. He exploded like he pulled the lever of an ejection seat. Melting behind the cattails his tail was wagging frantically one moment and pausing with concentration the next. Disappearing entirely into the brush all was quiet for one entire second. Then out the other side came the duck with Zeek hot on him. With one lunging pounce Zeek had him and was on his way back. I was just marveling at what I had experienced knowing it had just made my day, my season, and possibly my duck hunting lifetime.
Gary H. Sayre Jr.
In Memory of Sayre's Two Ponds Ezekiel 1996-2003