f you ever
Owned a great grouse dog
You have had your reward
For this life and the next Read more
If You Ever
Blog
Getting There
Billy Cord was traveling north to train with scarce the money for gas, much less inevitable emergencies. His tires were thin, his muffler loud from rust leaks, his two-ton stock bed truck’s engine burning oil, all sure signs breakdowns threatened. Still, with temperatures in the 90s at home in Georgia, he had no choice, or so he told himself. Read more
A Suggestion for Field Trial Clubs
The field trial sport (please do not call it a “pastime”) is under stress like never before. First run in the US in 1874, trials have survived recessions, depressions, world wars, pandemics. But in these prosperous times they show the undeniable signs of stress and decline: shrinking entries, especially in the All-Age category, and retirement of pro trainer-handlers. Read more
A Gift
Buddy Cain had achieved a long-held ambition, to his utter surprise. He had qualified Maryland Molly for the National Bird Dog Championship, to be held on the Ames Plantation beginning the second Monday in February, two months away. Molly was a four-year-old pointer female owned by Stan Shelton, a home builder from Baltimore. Like most in his line of business, Stan’s fortunes were boom and bust, dependent largely on interest rates and construction loan availability, over which he had no control. Read more
Gone Too Long
The scene was the National Bird Dog Championship, in February 2025.
The trial dated from 1896. It was known as the World Series of Field Trials. A three-hour stake, the last of these, all-age handler reputations were judged on whether a handler had ever won it. A few had, most had not.
It took a special dog to win, one with great endurance, dead broke and responsive to handler’s calls, his horse’s direction, with good eyesight, good hearing in both ears, good style. A dog that understood what its handler wanted of it, would consistently pattern forward, find birds, and handle them impeccably. Read more
My Nanny
Nanny was my maternal grandmother, Ethel Blevins Privett, born in 1867, daughter of Dr. John Faulkner Blevins of Selma, Alabama, born 1838, 18th graduate of Tulane Medical School in 1858, Captain and Assistant Surgeon in Law’s 44th Alabama, present at the Sunken Road at the Battle of Antietam and a half dozen major Virginia battles of the Civil War, and afterward assigned to hospital duty to care for the wounded in Richmond, and after that war, a practicing physician in Selma until his death there in 1901. Read more
End of a Partnership in Old Kentucky
Two libbies fly — his entry stays
Time’s up
He’s delighted
He will be back Monday
Unless ...
Read more
Happiness Plantation
Its name was apt when Bud Branch bought it after selling the business he founded and by brains and hard work grew to great value, then sold for cash. From age sixty to eighty Bud enjoyed it immensely, as did his sons Al and Fred, both hard chargers like their dad but in law (Al, counsel for plaintiffs badly injured) and venture capital (Fred, private equity in Silicon Valley). To deepen the plot, Al and Fred had different mothers, Al’s Wife One, Fred’s Wife Two, the Trophy Wife. Result, predictably, Al and Fred hated one another. Read more
Hawfield
No history of field trials in Virginia would be complete without a chapter on Hawfield.
For several years following the loss of the Camp Lee grounds in 1940, The Commission of Game and Inland Fisheries and The Virginia Amateur Field Trial Association spent a great deal of time and effort in attempting to find suitable grounds. This search culminated in 1948 in the purchase of Hawfield, a 2,760 acre farm in Orange County. The manor house had burned in 1936 and the farm became run down, much of it had grown up and the drainage system had ceased to function adequately and very little farming was being carried on. Read more
Last Call
’Twas at the National Championship in 20??
After all the entries ran and failed to make a case
Not a single covey had been stood, bumped or chased
The three distinguished judges were disgusted with the place
At lunch they called a huddle to decide what now to do
One had a flask of whiskey, one a flask of gin
The third a batwing of brandy if you can believe that sin
The senior judge said call ‘em back till we get one worth the win Read more