Andy, that is indeed a day to remember, and more of a "watercolor painting" than I could imagine.

Looking back on the last 10 years my red letter days involve the success of my sons and grand children. My granddaughters first woodcock that i had flushed and marked and she walked in and made the shot. I think that was the high point of my hunting life until my grandsons first grouse the next year. I seem to get more satisfaction out of their success than my own. Fishing is the same, when i put someone on to a fish it is better than my catching it myself.

With close to 40 years of being owned by bird dogs i could write a book on Red Letter days. Two come to mind one recently (last year) and one from long ago.

I've been going to Georgia Quail hunting each January for the last 6-7 years and last year was the first time I took my dogs along. Ike was just 2 and Duke was a year. There within a couple of weeks of each other both born in September.

Ike and Duke AKA The Boys had never hunted together until then. They worked together as if they had been doing it for years instead of hours. The short story version is while out looking for a single Ike pointed a covey that had been overlooked by the guides dog. We had let Ike out to stretch his legs and he found the covey in minuets of being out of the box. We let Duke out as well after that just to see how they might due together. Previously they had been hunting separately. Either myself or my hunting partner dropped a bird in a Palmetto grove and for the love of God couldn't find it. Duke was on point and we searched and kicked the cover with no results. I ran my foot litterly under Dukes nose and he never budged. We thought the bird must of run off and broadened our search that is all of us (two hunters a guide and his dogs) except Duke. I glanced back and Duke took a half a step and picked up the bird. The guide didn't believe he was just past a year old and that Ike was just over two. For three days he tried to buy them.
The Boys are retuning to Georgia next month.

Long ago before I had a Parker I had a GSP named Sturm. We were walking a fence row when he pointed. Expecting a Pheasant I was shocked when a grouse flushed and even more surprised when he flew straight away. I was in my M12 phase then and was using a 28ga skeet gun. My next bewilderment was that after two shots the bird was still flying heading for a wood lot. Sturm and I followed the flight path and along the way saw a drop of blood on a leaf. Shortly Sturm locked up on point along a dead fall. I kicked and busted branches but there was no flush. The bird was dead under a fallen log. When I cleaned it there was on pellet hole in the breast that must have gotten a lung.

While I have lots of pictures of The Boys, Daisy, Ilsa, and Gunner on either my computer or phone the one of Sturm on that day is only etched in my memory but it's still bright and vivid even after all these years.

I wish I knew how to get pics from my phone to the computer:banghead: It's NOT a red letter day when your phone is smarter than the operator :rotf:

Rich, email some pictures to me at g.g2@aol.com and I'll try to post them for you. I would like to see the boys in action.

Here are Rich's Boys...apparently enjoying themselves:

I chose grouse hunting over shooting clays today. Just got done pulling 50 quills from my Otis’s face lips and gums. NOT A RED LETTER DAY. Gotta love Labs. This was his FIFTH porcupine. Remember the good days when these days strike!

Gosh, Andy, I hope you got them all out. Those vile quills can travel unseen and cause lots of issues. But, if this is Otis' 5th time, you are probably a pro at extracting them. I hate porkies! I don't hate much, but they are on my list for sure.

I got them all. I know they can be a real problem. I hog tied him with duct tape and then jammed a 2" stick in the back of his mouth while sitting on him. He bled like a stuck pig. After the first two times that cost me $400 each time with a vet trip, I learned to do this. That's why I hog tie and get that mouth open. Being a Lab his memory is about two seconds. He still loves me.

It all makes me cringe. I had a male Gordon that could not leave porkies alone. The last time he tangled with one we had to take him to the vet to have the few we could not get in his mouth removed. While he was under anesthesia, his heart stopped. They revived him, but three days later he dropped over dead after beginning to retrieve a grouse he'd pointed. We are still not sure what happened, and it haunts me to this day, but I shoot porkies on sight now when I come across them.

I hope Otis is okay.