A Lesson Learned from Marshall Loftin

I learned a lesson from Marshall Loftin.

It was at the Invitational at Paducah. Marshall was judging, I was reporting. Marshall had House’s Rain Cloud to watch. I rode close to Marshall, trying to learn.

Cloud entered a forward patch of open woods and Marshall and I followed, a gallery close behind. Matney’s cap was lifted for Cloud which stood among large hardwood trees, the ground clear around him, save for the rain-soaked leaves on which he stood. As Matney walked up to flush, a covey lifted all around Cloud, and Cloud jumped, coming down a few feet ahead on all four feet, planting them — Matney did not speak. He looked at Marshall who sat his small (for a big man) horse, expressionless and silent. Matney fired and Cloud remained motionless. Matney led Cloud away, then released him and remounted to continue the heat.

At the end of the two hours Cloud was declared Champion for the third consecutive year. A record never equaled.

As Marshall and I rode away from that find, Marshall asked me quietly, “Think that was too much?” I answered, “I don’t know, mostly I’ve watched shooting dogs and those judges would have lifted him.”

“I don’t think so. This is an endurance stake, four hours. He’s been faultless on all his finds but that one. He stopped without command,” Marshall said.

And so Marshall taught me a lesson on the difference between all-age endurance standards and shooting dog standards, a lesson never forgotten.

I always enjoyed seeing Marshall at trials, where he was representing Kasco. Soon after our time together at Paducah, Marshall came to the Florida with his client Richard Boetler and ran a dog or two. He handled the way judges like, riding close before them at the pace they set. He was a philosopher and master teller of good stories. He and his wife were a tremendous influence for good in the life of Fred Dileo. All who knew him will miss him as will the sport of field trials.