We all had ‘em
We know ‘em
We owe ‘em
They launched us
Sent us on
To make our way Read more
Mentors
Blog
A Job Earned
Ben Reach had always loved the prairie trials. When younger he had judged one most years. He was going to one this year as a gallery guest of Fred Dane, owner of Old Grove Plantation below Thomasville. They would fly in Dane’s private jet to an airstrip near Columbus, North Dakota, owned by an energy exploration company that one of Dane’s private investment partnerships controlled. Read more
A New Position for Willie
Willie Goode enjoyed a special status on Tinkling Creek Plantation. His present position, at age seventy-five, was as scout for the dog handler on quail hunts. In his youth he had scouted for the Plantation’s field trial handler when the Plantation’s then owner, Creedmore Burns, sponsored a string on the all-age circuit. That had been a glorious time, right after World War Two, when Burns was among the Nation’s, indeed the world’s, wealthiest men, made so by his companies’ contributions to the war effort. Read more
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. Read more
What’s Fair
Molly Bain was one of Ben’s favorite people. Widow of Sam Bain, also a favorite, Molly had soldiered on after Sam’s death twenty years ago.
Molly had three daughters and eight grandchildren and doted on and worried about them all constantly. She professed no favorites and Ben knew she was sincere in saying it. They were certainly not equal in how they treated Molly. But Molly and Ben knew that was the universal fate of parents and grandparents.
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That Time Again
It’s that time again
South’s hot and muggy
The prairie beckons
Bird dog men
Time to load the pups and derbies
For school in big country
Up north where there’s wild birds
Sharp tails and pheasants and occasional Huns and no trees Read more
What Do I Owe Bird Dogs?
Among the boring habits of the old is talking about their pasts. At least I write of mine, so friends can easily turn me off — just stop reading.
So here mostly for my own amusement is an essay on what bird dogs have meant to me. If you are still reading you likely have a similar essay inside you. Read more
Big
I first watched Robin Gates handle at the Eastern Open Shooting Dog Championship in Virginia in 1976. His dogs hunted beautiful patterns, found game and were fast and stylish and had impeccable manners. And they reacted to his voice as if connected by cellphone, not then in use. I was impressed by how seldom he spoke to them, and how swiftly they obeyed him. He was 20 years old. Read more
Found Love
Ben Reach was not surprised by the call from Ann Cameron. “Ben, I need some personal advice. When could I see you?”
“How about four this afternoon?” Ben said.
“See you then” Ann said, and hung up. Read more
The Confession (fiction)
It had happened in 1965. Forty-Five were entered, forty-one pointers and four setters. After eight had run the first two days, the National Bird Dog Championship was called off for too few birds. This despite the fact Highway Man for Bill Rayl had scored three finds and hunted to the Amesian Standard. The judges’ decision had many followers of the sport furious. Read more