Blog

Four Visitors

December 9, 2017 | Ben Reach, Short Stories | Comments
It was two weeks before Christmas. Ben and Sam had mixed emotions, glad to be seeing old friends back in Albany to visit family over the Holidays, sad to realize the ranks of friends were shrinking. A few of their many acquaintances knew the sure way to find them together this time of year was to drop by Ben’s office at 4:30 or so. With days short they met early Read more

The Little Brown Bird

December 7, 2017 | Prose | Comments
For twenty-two years Life has given me An annual week That renews The second week in January I enter a world Where the parts of nature I love most Surround me Where wiregrass on ridged sand Tall pines here and there And a little brown bird We call quail thrive At dawn they whistle To greet one another From where they slept Tail to tail in a circle Then they Read more

Unfortunate Neighbors

December 1, 2017 | Ben Reach, Short Stories | Comments
Ben Reach knew there would be trouble when he learned Robert Hart was buying Twisted Pine Plantation. The trouble would come because of who owned adjoining Gnarled Oak Plantation. The storied properties shared a north-south boundary for three miles. Twisted Pine lay to the west, Gnarled Oak to the east. Gnarled Oak was owned by Frank Knox. Knox and Hart had been partners in a private equity firm in Boston Read more

Their Favorite Handler

November 28, 2017 | Short Stories | Comments
Ben and Sam had a favorite among the several for-the-public pointing dog trainer-handlers who called home the area around Albany (locally “All-Benny”). The reason had nothing to do with his prowess as a trainer or deftness at handling. Rather it had to do with his very dark past and how he had redeemed it. Farley Vail had what Sam Nixon MD called an addictive personality. In his youth he had Read more

Memories of the Invitational

November 24, 2017 | News From Tom | Comments
Tomorrow begins the Quail Championship Invitational, the three-day contest for the twelve top all-age pointing dogs measured by their Purina points collected over the preceding twelve months. It’s unique format — races of an hour, an hour, then two hours, all judged as one performance — measures the consistency of contestants and reduces the luck of the draw. The trial celebrates the true all-age contender, a dog with range, drive, Read more

The Fix

November 20, 2017 | Short Stories | Comments
Ames Plantation Manor House (©Ames Plantation) He farmed, but the center of his life was judging. Judging bird dog field trials. He had judged for years. Judged all over the U. S. and in three Canadian provinces. He got more invitations than he could accept. And for the last ten years he had judged the National. Those two weeks, sometimes longer, were the highlight of his year. He was now Read more

Looking Forward

November 16, 2017 | Prose | Comments
November’s half gone December’s just ahead January looms not long beyond So my excitement builds For come January’s second week I'll be at Chinquapin for my annual retreat To heaven on earth Where wiregrass grows on ridges of sand And quail whistle at dawn from all around And a bird dog can search wide and yet be seen Way off yonder Where a handler’s gut tightens before Let ’em go Read more

The People We Meet

November 13, 2017 | News From Tom | Comments
What shapes our lives? To a remarkable degree, it’s people we meet, largely by coincidence, not by anyone’s plan. Reflect on that. Think back on the people who came into your life purely by coincidence, and how they changed your life, for better or worse. Which changed you most? I’ll tell you of one from my life, now seven decades long. I met him in the late 1980s, on a Read more

A Desperate Handler

October 1, 2017 | Short Stories | Comments
The look of despair on the face of Vick Fell told Ben Reach the young handler had real troubles. Joanne had put Vick in the library-conference room with a cup of coffee to wait for Ben who was tied up in a judge-ordered settlement conference at the courthouse when Vick arrived for his appointment. She too had recognized the anxiety in Vick and wanted to spare him having to be seen by others who might stop by the office unannounced, as all sorts of friends of the curmudgeon were likely to do now that bream fishing time was arriving. Ben shook Vick’s big leathery hand, “Sorry to make you wait, son. How can I help you?” Read more