I was about 20 and often hunted pheasant and trapped mink and muskrats around a small local airport. One morning I parked my ‘65 Chevelle on a small hill where airport maintenance mowed a strip next to the access road. Next to the mown grass was a field that dropped into an alder and swamp maple swale. I loaded my 20 gauge pump and headed for the edge of the field.... this was before I had a dog... As soon as I stepped into the tall grass two big cock pheasants flushed in unison hammering for the open sky. I threw the gun to my shoulder and POW! folded that bird and he dropped like a rock, racked in a fresh shell as I swung on the second bird and folded him neatly too. I searched for a half-hour but never found either bird.
It was that day that I realized the importance of a dog... not so much to point and hold a bird, but to find it after you drop it and bring it to you.
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"I'm a Setter man.
Not because I think they're better than the other breeds,
but because I'm a romantic - stuck on tradition - and to me, a Setter just "belongs" in the grouse picture."
George King, "That's Ruff", 2010 - a timeless classic.
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