Ben Reach had a place reserved for the lad in his heart. He had promised the father to look out for the boy.
The father was Wally Steel, an all-age field trial trainer-handler based in Lee County who had died in his prime from lung cancer, cursed by his cigarette-smoking habit. At that time the boy, Sammy Steel, had been eighteen and apprenticing under his father, following the trial circuit fall to spring, training in North Dakota July to mid-September.
After Wally’s death Sammy had been trying to carry on with his string. Wally’s owners liked Sammy but were unsure he had what it took to make it. The four owners would give him a chance for a season with the dogs they had with Wally at his death, but placed no new prospects with him. Sammy had partnered up to travel in one rig with a contemporary of his father, Dan Eanes, also based in Lee County.
It was Labor Day and Ben and Sam Nixon MD had flown to Minot with a wealthy quail plantation owner who was Sam’s patient and Ben’s client for his Georgia law business. He had Boston lawyers for his business and tax work. He also had a lovely six passenger private jet Ben and Sam loved to travel in with him in to fly fishing destinations and on this once-a-year escape to watch a couple days of a prairie field trial.
Ben had talked to Sammy by cell phone several times since July to see how prairie training was going. The lad had been very high on a coming derby, and Ben was looking forward to seeing it perform. But on arrival at Columbus, Sammy told him the derby was not entered.
“He’s had a setback” was all Sammy would say.
Ben’s host had booked them in a Crosby motel, and for dinner Ben invited Sammy and his training partner to join them. After the meal Ben invited Sammy to come to his room, hoping to learn more of the derby’s problems.
“He was doing great until Monday, I had him derby broke. Then for no reason he dropped when I walked in front of him to flush. Since then, he has been doing it about every third find.”
Sammy’s uncle, his father Wally’s brother, was the manager and head dog trainer on Straight Flush Plantation, a quail shooting plantation near Tallahassee, so named by a former owner for the way he had acquired it, or so legend said.
Ben said, “I suggest you stop working him, take him to your Uncle Frank when you get home and turn him over to him for a bit. I know that is what your dad would have done, always did when a derby prospect blew up on him.” Sammy said he would take the advice .
Ben, Sam and their host rode two days at the Columbus trial and flew back to Albany from Minot where they had secured a rental Suburban. Ben heard no more from Sammy through the fall. Then Christmas week he and Sam Nixon MD were invited to hunt quail for a day on Straight Flush Plantation by a patient of Sam, the owner.
“How is your nephew Sammy doing with the derby he was going to bring to you when he returned from North Dakota, “Ben asked Uncle Frank. Frank grinned, said, “You are about to see. He is in the dog box on this wagon.”
Just before lunch Uncle Frank put the derby down. He wore a training collar and locating collar. He scored five quick finds, each deep at the front, each shot over. He did not flinch, much less drop.
At the lunch break, Ben asked Uncle Frank, “Is the derby part of your shooting string now?”
Frank grinned again. “No, Mr. Ben. Sammy is coming to get him tonight. He is entered in the Continental Derby.”
“How did you get him fixed,” Ben asked Uncle Frank, not expecting an answer. Frank said, “Just put him on the wagon, put him down alone. When he dropped on a find, we ignored him, didn’t ride to the find. In a couple of days he fixed himself, has not dropped once since.”
“Sure hope he will do that for Sammy,” Ben said.
The third week of January, Ben heard. Sammy’s derby won the Continental Derby Championship with four finds and a big race. Ben called Uncle Frank and asked, “Who owns that derby, Frank?”
“My boss does. That Derby has made a field trialer out of him. Did it right here on Straight Flush Plantation, hunting off the wagon. He is now Sammy’s field trial customer. And Sammy can work his string here whenever he wants as long as he hunts them here for the boss Christmas week.”
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Another good one Buddy. My baseball playin friend Ray Knight purchased a dog with the same problem on my recommendation. I took him to Montana and did the same thing. Always worked him by myself and no other dog. Never raised my voice, on foot at prime time most every evening. He won the AKC National Gun Dog Ch when they ran at Fred’s in Danville. I was running on fumes in the money department and my son purchased him in a Calcutta I knew nothing about. He finds me at my trailer that evening and borrowed $90 bucks from me to pay his Calcutta bill. That was approximately half the cash I was holding. Anyway Johnny wins it and the club hands Jimmy over a grand!!