That's Why They Call It Hunting

Had a rather uneventful day in the field on Sunday. A good friend came out with me, and it was not a bad day in terms of weather (about 85 degrees or so), but not much happened. 

It started hopefully enough with the dogs appearing to find in a very overgrown thicket of multiflora right by the road, but they never got in very far to this 30-foot sette, and they never opened up. I popped into the pipe, but the dogs seem to lose the story. This may have been a case where the groundhog bolted why we were busy locating the dogs. Lot of holes at this sette!

The same story followed at two other good holes over the course of the day -- the dogs finding in very thick growth, but by the time we caught up to them (once after the dogs had to come find us twice!), there seemed to be no one home even though both dogs were still very interested.  There was no open-up baying all day except for a short burst above ground, on the last hole, when I am pretty sure the groundhog bolted into the brush.  Ah well, no day out with the dogs is an entirely bad day.
.
.