A good bird dog
Is a gift from God
If you get one
You owe it care
You owe it time
When young to learn
To stay with you
And search the front Read more
A Good Bird Dog
Category: Poetry
A Run-Off
Two handlers wake before dawn And roll from their lumpy beds In a field trial motel near the grounds Their tasks for the day are a run-off Then a two-hundred-mile-haul in their duallys pulling trailers They wish the judges had flipped a coin Given one the Championship, the other R-U Champ But no, they must instead have this Waste a day And throw everyone’s plans in a mess They grab Read more
Sam’s Last Brace, Part II
The first hour filled with action
Sam’s dog Rip was reaching well
Liked this country with its edges
Rip found quail twice
With style and good location
His manners perfect at their flush Read more
Sam’s Last Brace, Part I
Sam woke Monday ‘fore dawn
Rolled over, found the lite switch
Squeezed it on, slipped off the bed
Shuffled to the bathroom
Relieved himself, pulled on his clothes
Boots last, then out the door Read more
Woodcock
I love woodcock pure and simple
Not because they are tasty or pretty
But for other virtues aplenty
They are amazing for their hippy life style
And courage in flying many miles Read more
Lament for a Sport
I long for the days
When quail abounded
Wild and ubiquitous
On much of the Nation
When tracts with edges
And corners and fence rows
Gave food and cover
To hide, nest and hatch on Read more
Lesson From a Storm
Third cutting
Fine and bright
I had mowed raked hauled and stacked it
With schoolmates just
Two months before
Also that summer
We had dug a deep well
Run a pipe to the barn
Plumbed in a frost-free spigot
Through it we now filled buckets of H-2-0 for the ewes
Read more
Season Over
Well, the season’s over
Quail paired off for mating
Tack and chaps hung in the trailers
Points tallied, Gulf fishing boats awaiting
Trialers take stock
Of the season just completed
Count the pluses-minuses
Is the glass half full or empty? Read more
Last Call
’Twas at the National Championship in 20??
After all the entries ran and failed to make a case
Not a single covey had been stood, bumped or chased
The three distinguished judges were disgusted with the place
At lunch they called a huddle to decide what now to do
One had a flask of whiskey, one a flask of gin
The third a batwing of brandy if you can believe that sin
The senior judge said call ‘em back till we get one worth the win Read more
I Remember Every Hunt
I remember every hunt
And the dogs that searched that day
For the quail
Lurking in the cover
In Sussex Dinwiddie and Southampton Read more