"And that's what I like about the South"-- what great names. I know the great Tar Heel State a little bit, thanks to the USMC- Jacksonville area, Camp Lejeune- and a few weekends when I drove over to Fayetteville to see some HS buddies learning how to waste good airplane rides at Ft. Bragg- I also very much appreciate NC's equally great neighbor the Palmetto State and all the rich history, Andrew Clay 1824 comes to mind--
Dogs, like humans, are very hard to predict, IMO. Growing up, my Dad "inherited" I believe what the AKC lads call a "dropper", half registered Brittany, half English Setter- he named her "Speckles", Lord knows why, and she loved to bird hunt: good nose and instincts, solid on point, not a perfect retriever, but she'd find your bird, just didn't always bring it back-
But she lived for one thing- a 180 degree spin from the "Gun Shy" problem that can plague bird dogs- she loved to hear the gun(s) go off when the birdies flushed- In Ohio in the 1950's- No Sunday hunting, quail and dove were protected, and only Rooster pheasants were legal- We often got into many coveys of quail, and almost always put up Hen pheasants too in the course of a day's bird hunting- If she didn't hear a "Bang-Boom" when the birdies got airborne, she got discouraged, and headed back for Dad's Ford "Woodie" hunting car, and waited for us- she had "punched out" for the day- So we got in habit of carrying extra shells and at least one in our group would fire off a few shots skyward if a protected bird flew, and she stayed hunting for us--