Blog

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

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. Read more

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

The Master Thief

Fred Freeze was a genius at training pointing dogs, of a certain sort. Very smart ones, the ones who understood what field trials were all about. Not necessarily the most athletic or naturally talented, but those that could be taught to leverage the talents of a bracemate. And none had been so well suited to Fred Freeze’s methods as Candice, a pointer female who learned tricks from Fred like a circus performer. Read more

Rivals

They had been fierce rivals twenty years. Too fierce some said. The rivalry came to a head in the National Amateur Quail Championship run that year on the King Ranch. They had been top amateur handlers for years now, competing all over the country in regional championships with all-age dogs they bred and trained themselves. Like others in the top echelon, the semi-pros Ben Reach called them, they were serious as a heart attack about winning, so much so that many competitors dreaded being braced with them. They were generally good sportsmen, unless your dog was a threat to win; then sportsmanship went out the window, and you best be on the lookout, or so rumor had it. Read more