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.
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Category: Short Stories
The Genius
He was a genius, no doubt about it. He had the riches to prove it. His genius was not in invention, but in seeing before others how inventions could be applied. Time after time this had led him to buy into successful technology companies before they became publicly owned, either through initial public offerings or recently via the SPAC route.
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The Qualification of Reb
For Billy Kell, it seemed the worst possible day of his life. It did not turn out that way. This is the story.
It was 2004. Billy was an up-and-coming bird dog pro, age twenty-eight, a trainer-handler of pointing dogs for field trial competition. He’d grown up the son of a quail plantation manager near Thomasville, Georgia, who earlier had been the plantation’s dog trainer and hunt manager. Read more
The Transition ~ Part Two
Allen Ames left Ben’s office at 5, Ben having told him he’d ponder how best to approach a deal with Ed Tate to take over his string. Doc arrived for the Curmudgeons’ ritual end-of-week shared libation. Ben explained Allen’s dream as they sipped their first drams of The Macallan.
“What do you suppose Ed Tate has got to live on in retirement?” Sam asked. Read more
The Transition ~ Part One
“Ed Tate is going to have to retire,” Sam Nixon M. D. told Ben Reach at breakfast at Millie’s Diner.
“Why?” Ben asked.
“Heart disease, plus emphysema. Lifelong smoker,” Sam said.
“How old is Ed?” Ben asked.
“Sixty-seven,” Sam said. Read more
A Conspiracy With a Happy Ending
They had been rivals since 1916, the year of the first Yankee Field Trial, that trial held every Presidents Day by the Georgia-Florida Field Trial Club and called by its members (all quail plantation owners) the Owner’s Trial. They were three adjoining quail plantations, owned by cousins now, once by siblings, children of the same Cleveland Robber Baron, a coal and iron ore man, fabulously wealthy, who owned them all and called it Heavenfield. Read more
The Problem
Ben got the call out of the blue. He had never heard of Ronnie Bowles. The young man introduced himself as an aspiring amateur horseback field trailer from Maryland (Maryland, where in Hell can you run a bird dog in Maryland? Ben thought. Read more
The Slickest Trick
Ben and Sam were alone on a late Friday afternoon, nursing drams of The Macallan in Ben’s library-conference room.
Sam asked, “What’s the neatest trick you ever saw pulled at a field trial?” Read more
A Christmas Season Fix
Ben and Sam were brainstorming on how to help their old friends, the handler Jim Heath and his helper Booty Blevins, with their problem, brought on by old age. Jim was seventy, Booty seventy two. Read more
The First Year
“I need your help with a patient,” Sam Nixon MD told his pal Ben Reach while the curmudgeons were waiting for their breakfasts in their customary booth in Millie’s Diner.
“What’s his problem?” Ben asked.
“On the verge of a nervous breakdown. Bird dog handler, got one that won everything last season, can’t keep him at all this season. He was expecting to continue winning this season, but every time he turns him loose there is a screw up,” Sam said.
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