September brings the hunting seasons to a small army of Granite Staters and it’s a wonderful time of the year to be out there. The early-season Canada goose hunt has a real attraction to us.

Sometime soon we’ll be out there in a small clump of corn, left uncut by a kindly farmer, but now without my great Lab retriever Balm. Things have changed and not to the good. So we have to put my memory bank in motion to relive some of those awesome days with him.

My dog would have been shivering in anticipation of hearing those first clarion calls of Canada geese heading our way. We’d both be wet from the ankles to our knees from the setting of a few dozen-goose decoys in the corn stubble.

Labs are no fools. He knows this is the real thing. Living on Great Bay, hearing the calls of Canada geese is pretty much an everyday occurrence, but here we are, out in the corn stubble with decoys and guns. He can hardly contain himself. It will come as no surprise to me if he doesn’t whine and bark at the first approach of a flock of geese.

A couple of years ago, his excitement was more than he could take. On the approach of a flock of geese he pulled his screw-in-the-ground retainer right out and took off chasing the geese across a horse pasture with leash and retainer bouncing along behind him. Needless to say, those geese got away unscathed.

We remember another time when we were told by a group hunting the same ground that they had seen a goose we’d crippled that was out of sight from us. They were leaving the field so taking Balm for a walk didn’t bother their hunting. We spied the goose at about the same time that the goose spied us and it took off, flying about two hundred yards and landing just before the woods line.

By then my old legs were complaining, so instead of walking with the dog to the place where the goose had landed, we sent him on a “back” command. We didn’t realize at the time that Balm had watched the goose’s flight and had the spot nailed down. But the goose got up and ran when the dog approached and we watched from that long distance as Balm disappeared up into an overgrown lane leading into the field.

Huffing and puffing and reaching for my nitroglycerin pill bottle, we feared for going much farther. But we were more than concerned when, after twenty minutes, Balm was nowhere to be found. I had used my whistle several times for him to return but obviously he had to be still on the goose’s scent or something worse. I was about to climb up to a spot where yelling to my group could be heard when the grass started to part in the overgrown path. My heart did a flip-flop as Balm, not bounding by any means, tried to stand up with the huge goose in his mouth to locate me. When he got to my position we both hit the ground, me in a happy hug and kiss bliss while the poor dog was able to drop the goose and grab some very much needed deep breaths.

We just had to put down our deceased son Ted’s chocolate Lab Brownie. He was 13 years old and retired from hunting for the last three years. His passing brought on lots of memories of both my Balm and Brownie on waterfowl hunts when both displayed an unbelievable love of this pastime. It looks like no more dogs for the Pinney family, at least for the near future. Life is not the same, but those memories are incredible and on my computer, the screen-saver is a slide show that features both dogs doing their thing. It’s not as good as the real thing, but makes my exercise bicycling go by much faster and much more rewarding.

This month is also the time when huge pollock will usually swarm onto Jeffrey’s Ledge and the party boats and also the recreational fishing boats large enough to be that far offshore will target them. It’s hard for me to pick one type of fishing as a favorite, but no problem with the offshore stuff since giving up my addiction to “tuna-wishing.” Those big pollock are rod benders and often you will hook one on your jig and another one on a teaser tied above the jig. Now you’re talking having about 20-plus pounds of fish on the line and often close to twice that much. It’s way too much fun.

My wife and I and my fish-loving neighbors look forward to this time of year as pollock are great food. Fried, baked, grilled and even in a fish salad, they are gourmet quality.

Dick Pinney’s column appears weekly in the New Hampshire Sunday News. Email him at DoDuckInn@aol.comDrop us an email at DoDuckInn@aol.com and take advantage of the great early fall outdoors fun that awaits us.