I was sitting on a bar stool
In a dark beer joint
With a long neck Bud
And a pickled pig's foot
I was alone
Nursin' a grudge
'Gainst a field trial judge
Just throwed out my dog
For flaggin' on point
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Ben Reach and Sam Nixon MD were settled in Ben’s library-conference room at 4 PM on a Friday with drams of The Macallan 12 in plastic mugs and splits of club soda to dilute it on the table before them. Both were glad the work week was over — it had been a tough one. Sam had to tell a patient her cancer had returned. Ben had to tell a grandfather his favorite grandson had failed out of the grandfather’s Alma Mater.
Ben mentioned the bird dog trainers, field trial and hunting plantation types, were just back from summer training on northern prairies. He and Sam were invited to a dove shoot on Mossy Swamp Plantation tomorrow.
“What was the worst screw-up you saw field trial judges make in your years of doing that?” Read more
This is a field trial story worthy of Sherlock Holmes, or Laurel and Hardy, but that could have been tragic. It’s the story of the theft of a handler’s entire string of entries at a field trial held at Amelia, Virginia in the early 1980s, a time of strong competition among accomplished east coast pro and amateur handlers... Read more
A few men and women of means
Kept all-age field trials alive
Through depressions recessions and wars
Helped by trainers in love with the game
Since 1874 Read more
It was 1957, in the era before “Helpin’ Each Other,” when pro bird dog handlers scouted for one another out of economic necessity. It was in the era when pro handlers traveled in stake-bed trucks instead of dually pickup trucks pulling goose neck trailers, and in the era when scouts were mostly black men employed year around as assistant trainers by the white handler they scouted for.
Those scouts were a band of brothers, low paid but loving their work and the dogs they scouted and helped train. Read more
Oh, please give me a puppy
Can cast to the rim
Of the biggest pasture
In South Alabama
Oh, please give me a derby
Will go to the limits
Of its hearing
Then come back alookin’ for me Read more
There are smells from childhood
We remember into old age
A favorite of mine is from age six
When I sat on my father’s lap
Behind Maud and Bird
Our team of Belgian mares Read more
“Every dog has got a hole, and his handler has to hide it,” was a truism in the world of bird dog field trials.
This led to an experiment at the Deep South Open All-Age Championship, initiated by John Steed, owner of Fat Pine Plantation, venue of the Championship. Steed issued bodycams to each of the six mounted marshals he sponsored to ride throughout the Championship. Before the first breakaway, he met privately with the marshals. Read more