Blog

A Memory of Bubba

With the shock of reading Bubba Moreland’s notification of death today on Facebook came a flood of memories of being with him and his mutual best friend Luke Weaver. For those who did not know them, Bubba handled Luke’s bird dogs in open competitions, and they were brothers in all ways but blood.  Read more

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

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