Since the New Year began, every time I turn around one friend after another has been ill with a cold, the flu, narvo virus, or some other cold-weather malady. Most recently, four of my near and dear sporting buddies were overcome with the same virus, an ailment with a long duration and an extremely expensive treatment. For three of them it’s a recurring and severe flareup of that insidious illness prone to hardcore hunters. They have all caught Puppyitis.

The only proven cure for Puppyitis seems to be the addition of a new four-legged friend to the family circle. While midwinter might seem the most inopportune time to housebreak and acclimate a young dog to a new family, accommodations, and routines, for fall bird hunters it’s the perfect time frame. Since most puppies are ready to go home with new owners at 7-8 weeks of age, by late spring formal training can get under way. Throughout the summer, field and water training – with an eye toward upland game birds and waterfowl hunting – can be explored as the bond between two- and four-legged hunters is formed and solidified. And with hard work from both parties and a precocious pup, by October the pair can enjoy the first of many great gunning seasons together.

The rare breed

Based on my addiction to duck and goose hunting, Labrador retrievers have always been my weakness, and a block-headed, big-chested chocolate lab, with a heart to fit, named Rum lives on in my heart as my favorite. Over several decades of following dogs in search of rabbits, raccoon, coyotes, waterfowl, and more than a dozen species of upland birds, I’ve seen young, old, poorly trained, professionally trained, shy, outgoing, and downright antisocial dogs. Among this platoon of keen-nosed companions have been English setters, Irish setters, German shorthairs, beagles, English pointers, Brittany spaniels, Chesapeakes, and several varieties of hounds. I’ve even spent time afield and in blinds with uncommon Maine breeds such water spaniels, vizslas, and Weimaraners, but I’d yet to meet my most unusual and interesting canine companion.

Longtime friends and hunting cronies, Bill and Remillie Norsworthy, had owned a series of top-rate setters over the years, and I’d been privileged to wing-shoot grouse and woodcock over most of them. When I accepted an invitation for an October afternoon rambling around a dense neighborhood woodcock cover seven years ago, little did I know what was in store. I paid little attention to the dog crate in the truck bed when Bill picked me up, but I learned on the drive to the nearby cover that our dog-du-jour was the Norsworthys’ newest family member named Jag.

During our short drive Bill was unusually reserved, even evasive, about the new pup, but I just chalked it up to not wanting to elevate my expectations about another rookie setter. Imagine my total astonishment when Bill opened the crate door and out sprang a giant Brillo pad with legs. No setter this but what I soon learned was a German wirehair pointer, one of fewer than a dozen in the entire state at that time. Also called a Drahthaar, it’s a true German name. On close inspection I noted the dog’s head shape resembled an Airedale and the big-chested, well-muscled body was nose to tail covered with bristly grayish-black hair. As the old saying goes, “It was so homely, it was actually cute.”

Jag was so eager to begin hunting she actually shook and shivered as Bill made her sit so he could attach her working beeper collar. Once our trio reached the thick cover comprised of tamarack, small firs, and alders, Jag knew the drill. There was no delicate side-to-side casting displayed by some upland breeds. The wirehair was more like a small tank busting brush and searching for the enemy. We could see flashes of her forging ahead, and even when Jag blended into the cover, we could hear her beeper. Every so often she would circle back to check that we were staying close.

During our 21/2-hour outing, the keen-nosed wirehair pointed six woodcock, four of which Bill or I got shots at, putting three in the game pouch. As our trio headed back to the truck along an old farm road, Jag suddenly veered off into the edge of the woods and froze in place. Certainly it was an odd spot for timberdoodle, but our funny-looking pup hadn’t failed us yet, so Bill stepped in to investigate. Despite the distance, even I was jumped when the fat grouse exploded from under the spruce bows and flew right over Bill’s head, but he recovered, spun right, and dusted the bird going away. Despite youth and limited experience, this unique breed really got my attention that day, and the best was yet to come.

Wicked waterfowler

By the next fall Jag had filled out, muscled up, and became an even more fine-tuned hunting machine. During a late September outing at a local game bird preserve, “Big Dog” as Bill affectionately called her, sniffed out pheasant like a Hoover finds dust. Jag ran us ragged as Bill, Remillie, Mike Wallace, and I took turns trying to keep up as she relentlessly trailed, located, and held one wily rooster after another in place until one of use flushed the gaudy, long-tailed game birds from hiding. One wing-tipped pheasant sailed more than 200 yards before hitting the ground running, yet Jag located, then caught the bird and was heading back to meet us before we got to where the wounded pheasant landed.

My admiration for wirehairs in general and Jag in particular elevated even further during duck and goose season. Our quartet of duck hunting pals set up on a small pond one October afternoon and the shooting was fast and furious. Despite being divided into two shooting teams more than 100 yards apart, Jag did all the retrieving for both sets of hunters. Twice, the burly wirehair had to half swim, half slog through muddy shallows to the far side of the pond and into the tall cattails and reeds to ferret out and retrieve wounded mallards unable to fly but very adept at swimming, diving, and hiding. Often that evening under Bill’s whistle and hand-signaled directions, Jag made multiple retrieves of two or three downed ducks, and we didn’t lose a single bird.

When Jag turned 4, Bill and Rem were so pleased with her all-around capabilities and aptitude with all types of bird hunting that they opted for a second wirehair. And what better way to carry on all of Jag’s great attributes and individual traits than to breed her with a championship bloodline stud dog from Wisconsin. Pups from the resulting litter were quickly purchased by bird hunters from across the U.S. – all except for one dark-furred little Brillo pad named Gabby.

Jag is now 9 and her daughter Gabby is 5. I’ve had the privilege to hunt ducks, geese, woodcock, partridge, pheasant, and even game farm chukka and quail with both generations, and the younger dog’s abilities are equal to the old veteran’s already. After the heartbreaking loss of their last English setter a year ago, the Norsworthys are finally ready to move forward and get another dog. Their severe case of Puppyitis will finally be cured in May, when yet another German wirehair will join the family. Another female, this pup will arrive from a well known breeder in South Dakota, adding an expanded bloodline to the clan as well as all the fun and excitement of training and enjoying a rookie bird dog. It’s not even my puppy and I can’t wait for its arrival, let alone its first field trip.

Why wirehairs

Most experienced hunters who own dogs develop partiality to certain breeds over the years. This is even more likely if an outdoorsman leans toward a particular type of bird hunting. A duck and goose gunner is bound to prefer a Labrador retriever, although the color phase remains a personal preference. A sea duck enthusiast who braves December and January outings along Maine’s cold coastline might need a tougher, more durable Chesapeake Bay retriever. Partridge hunters may favor a setter of some sort while long-legged pointers are often preferred for pinning down fleet-of-foot pheasant. But if a sportsman plans to pursue a full complement of upland species as well as waterfowl of every shape and size, a German wirehair becomes the obvious choice for all-around versatility.

Perhaps a wirehair won’t be quite as tough as a Chesapeake in frigid seas nor as fashionable as an English setter in a grouse covert, but as a jack-of-all-trades bird dog, few breeds can compare. During October’s prime time it’s not uncommon for a wirehair owner to hunt four different species within a week, and on many occasions I’ve seen Bill Norsworthy’s dogs hunt ducks and geese at daybreak and prowl a field for woodcock and grouse the same afternoon. When you own a dog that can switch from pointing and retrieving an 8-ounce game bird to running down and wrestling a 10-pound goose back to the blind, you might say he’s a full-service hunting partner.

German wirehairs still aren’t widely distributed in the Pine Tree State, but they’re gathering a devoted and growing following. While it’s good to have a great dog for one style of bird hunting, it’s even better to have a good dog for every type of bird hunting. Perhaps a short-tailed, bristly-coated pointer is just what you need to increase autumn anticipation. If you’re currently suffering from Puppyitis, a German wirehair just might be the cure.

Outdoor feature writer Bill Graves can be reached via e-mail at bgravesoutdoors@ainop.com