The Lesson

It was the Masters Quail Championship. Billy White was in his third year as a handler on the circuit, and he had lucked onto a truly great dog, one of the many out of western Kentucky bought as a first year all-age by a very wealthy financier newly fascinating by the obscure sport of field trials. That owner was a throw back to the early years when men like Pierre Lorillard, Joseph Pabst, Hobert Ames and Ty Cobb sponsored entries.

Billy had talent and a bright future. He also had lessons to learn. This week would contribute to that education.

Billy’s super dog, pointer male Phenom, was drawn in the seventh brace with Miss Marvelous, an aging veteran beyond her prime but a four-time Champion in the string of grizzled Frank Jones, in his sixties and near retirement. Frank had a reputation as a tough competitor but one who played by Gentlemen’s Rules, not so much out of high moral convictions but because he had learned from long experience that unsportsmanlike conduct cost and did not pay. In other words, he had learned that dirty tricks would inevitably be found out and a sporting gesture would be rewarded eventually in kind and at a desperate moment. So he played fair and helped competitors when it might cost him short term.

Frank had scouting for him today an employee of one of the plantations the trial ran on, Blue Springs. In his day job he helped guide hunting parties, scouted, held horses, drove the mule wagon, drove a van to the Albany airport to pick up plantation guests and occasionally handled the wagon dogs. He often bar tended parties in the Big House. He also scouted in trials for the plantation’s head dog man when on rare occasions he entered a dog.in a trial. But in the old days, in his youth, he had been a professional scout on the circuit, back when Blue Springs’ manager had been a for-the-public handler. He knew the Field trial game. His name was Willie.

The dogs were turned loose at eight on Blue Springs. They sped away and promptly entered cover. The handlers rode on, forward on the course path, confident their dogs would emerge at the front. Then Billy saw twelve minutes had passed since Phenom had been seen by the judges and began to panic. He rode forward at a canter into thick woods on the right.

He came upon a pointed dog. At first he thought it was Phenom. Then he realized it was Miss Marvelous. He stopped his horse, lifted his cap, and drew breath in preparation for shouting “Point,” but then he had second thoughts.

In silence, he replaced his cap and rode in front of Marvelous, flushing a large covey of quail. Then he spoke to Miss Marvelous softly to release her, and headed her away from the course, and resumed his search for Phenom.

Unbeknown to Billy, Willie had ridden up from the rear, scouting for Marvelous, just in time to see Billy’s conduct with Marvelous on her find. He let Billy get out of sight, then gathered Marvelous and guided her back to the course ahead of Frank. Then he drifted back into the gallery. Meanwhile Phenom had returned to the course on his own and Frank had called out, “Here’s your dog, Billy.”

Phenom went on to score five finds in a thrilling race. Marvelous scored four in a race equal to Phenom’s. After the brace ended Willie reported to Frank what Billy had done. He did so where no one else could hear him. Frank’s blood pressure rose and he considered confronting Billy. Then he decided to wait.

When all entries had run and all present were gathered back at the Potter Community Center’s red barn, the Secretary of the Southern Club blew his whistle and called for everyone to gather up. He thanked the judges, the reporter, the marshals (managers or dog men on the four plantations plus Kudzu who never missed a brace), the landowners, the dog wagon driver, Eukanuba and Garmin, the dog owners and handlers. Then he said,

“This year’s Runner Up is Miss Marvelous…and this year’s Champion is Phenom.”

Applause erupted after each dog’s name was called. Congratulations we’re spouted, checks delivered, handshakes exchanged, pictures of the winners taken on the table in front of the barn with the banner hung in front proclaiming:

Special thanks for support of the Master’s Quail Championships
Pineland Plantation. Blue Springs Plantation.
Nonami Plantation. Wildfair Plantation.

Everyone sprinted for their rigs and the traditional swift exit began. Before Billy could finish loading his string of dogs and horses, Frank approached him in the barn. He was followed by Willie who had a small object clutched in his huge hand. It was a GoPro video camera.

“Billy, I’ve got something to show you,” Frank said. Then he reached for Willie’s camera and his own smart phone, onto which he had downloaded Willie’s video from the Go Pro showing Billy’s riding up of Miss Marvelous’s birds from her first (unrecorded) find, followed by Billy in the act of riding her off away from the course.

Billy recognized the scene and turned pale. The Go Pro had also been set to record date and time.

Frank was silent for a full minute which seemed to Billy an hour. Then he said,

“Billy, you have got a real nice dog, and you can have a bright future. But what you did today and Willie got on camera has to stop. You cannot survive in this game on dirty tricks. You will be found out, just like you were today, and everyone in the game will become your enemy and look for chances to do you in.

“I could send this to Bernie and get you banned. But I’m going to give you one chance to change your ways if you will promise me you won’t ever try a dirty trick on a competing dog or scout or handler again.

“Willie’s eyes were big as saucers as he watched the confrontation between the old and young handlers, both well over six feet tall and wearing cowboy riding boots that made them look like giants to Willie who stood 5’4”.

After another moment of silence that seemed to stretch for a half hour, Billy burst into tears and hugged Frank.

“Thank you Mr. Frank, I have learned my lesson. Let me split this check with you,” Billy said.

“Not necessary, just remember the lesson.”

Frank and Willie got into Frank’s truck and with the long trailer clanging through potholes made for Blue Springs, where Willie would be dropped off at his cottage around which a half dozen coon hounds would be chained and barking.

“Where did you get that camera, Willie?”, Frank asked.

“The new Boss Man give it to me at Christmas so I could get pictures of his grandchildren on the quail hunts and dove shootin’. He done commissioned me to teach ‘em how,” Willie said with pride.