In the current historical moment that hunting is going through, all of us are witnesses of an unequivocal fact: ungulates are there, and how! The densities of wild boars, but also of cervids and bovids, are increasing in a more or less homogeneous way throughout the peninsula, perhaps the result of better land management and the application of more “modern” biological criteria. The hunting of ungulates, including wild boar, is practiced in selection, even if for the suide area the hunting methods are more numerous and often complementary to each other (hunted, turned, etc.) and deserve a separate discussion. But let's focus on selection hunting. In selection hunting nothing is left to chance: the knowledge of the territory, the observation of the animals and the identification of the assigned leader, the observation and aiming systems, the bullets, the rifles ... everything is studied in detail, tested, validated, optimized, with a single purpose: to make sure that the shot hits. And, above all, that the effects of the blow are those hoped for, that is, a clean killing of the animal with its immediate death, with minimal suffering for the prey and possibly also for the hunter.
In real hunting, unfortunately, we know that this is not always the case: almost all of us have experienced the effects of a shot that does not go where it was thought, of a ball that did not work as we hoped, of an animal that did not react as expected. In summary: a desolately, desperately empty anschuss. Sometimes mute, without any sign of injury (blood, fur, traces on the ground, etc.). A situation like this, far from rare, can give rise to two scenarios, opposite and mutually exclusive: the hunter who after having "looked" walking up and down shrugs, cursing against bad luck and that shot that did not lighten up or the hunter who, without moving too much, puts his hand on his cell phone and dials the number of the "retriever". If what happens is option B, then the game doesn't end with a supposed pan but it gets really interesting. During the roaring deer hunt in the Bolognese Apennines we found ourselves in the company of our friend Paolo Gotta rushing to a fairly daring shooting test. “Is there no blood? ….Ah OK. Did you see him take the hit? Was it daylight?… Okay, I'm going to get Hermann ”. A quick coded phone call had prematurely put an end to the unfortunate outing as a chaperone to quickly take on the role of the recuperator.
Scene: Experience hunter shoots a cervo adult at the first light of dawn, the deer was in a hollow of the vast medic field surrounded by woods. “The first shot I fired in the right shoulder”, relates the hunter, “I don't think I got it, from the reaction he had. He turned in the opposite direction, offering me his other shoulder, where I aimed before firing the second shot. It seemed to me to have contracted the hind legs but then it shot off towards the bottom of the valley. Due to the conformation of the terrain it has disappeared from our sight ”, concludes the hunter with downcast eyes and the fire of anger in his hands. The escort confirms the precise description and offers to drive Paolo and Hermann, his splendid Bavarian, on the alleged anschuss. As often happens, it becomes difficult in retrospect to indicate the precise position of the animal at the time of the shot. Nothing. No humanly visible traces. The dog makes a couple of turns around the indicated point, then a low nose sets off decisively. A first stretch seems to mark the path of the deer when it came out on the field. dog and conductor sink into the curtain of thick and sharp brambles that close the wood, followed by the guide. They leave after a few minutes, the men also scratched on the face, the dog radiant, with a low nose. They return to the anschuss and from there, sent, towards the edge of the woods in the opposite direction to that indicated. “We hadn't looked in that direction. It seemed to us that the deer had taken down ”, comments the companion. Hermann stops suddenly, followed by Paolo a little panting from the climb. Long blades of bloody grass are the backdrop to its rhythmic and lively bark. We do not see what he is barking at but we sense that the direction of his proud gaze is an arrow pointing to the loot on the map. Twenty steps upwards and the white, motionless, robust points of the majestic stage stand out against the sky in a corner of brambles. The noble deer lies composed against a large trunk, it seems that a compassionate hand has arranged it in this way to offer our admiring gazes all its royal bulk. Hermann barks at his treasure and gives Paolo his looks of canine understanding accomplice. Paolo is proud of the work of his auxiliary and of the happy outcome of a search that could have remained in vain. An animal so beautiful, precious, imposing, would perhaps have remained there, rotting in the thick of an impenetrable tangle of fires until the hunter of passing mushrooms had noticed the smell or collected the poles, perhaps emerging from under the snow. Skill, acumen and human experience can never, ever replace the gifts that Nature has bestowed on certain breeds and certain subjects of dogs.
The verification of the shot is in my opinion a duty for us hunters. It has a moral and ethical value, especially when it results in injuries that inflict painful and long suffering on the animal. In addition, verifying the shot is an opportunity for great in-depth study, acquisition in the field of notions of ballistics, terminal and otherwise, which no manual can ever explain to us as well. It is also a gesture of respect towards game, a gesture that rehabilitates the figure of hunters against the ever-increasing number of animal rights movements that make hunting accusations of "cruelty and mistreatment" of animals. The value of recovery cannot be described in so few words, and cannot ignore its protagonists, who embody the qualities of intelligence, dedication, fidelity and unconditional love: our beloved dogs!