My first bird dog, Prairie Sage, was a fireball. She was from horseback trial breeding and was a covey dog extraordinaire. She was a willful dog, and would nip me after a retrieve just to say, "I'm doing this on my terms." She hated to back another dog and would hide behind a bush when her bracemate went on point. She could find birds and placed in field trials against white dogs, much to the chagrin of their handlers. She was a great bird dog and found lots of birds in her day, especially quail. I could keep up with her back then. Oh, to be young again.
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“Every day I wonder how many things I am dead wrong about.”
― Jim Harrison
"'I promise you,' he said, 'on my word of honor, I won't die on the opening of the bird season.'" -- Robert Ruark (from The Old Man and the Boy)
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