Parkers/Setters--Trajedy to miraculous recovery

[Harold Pickens]

It stopped raining at noon yesterday as I finished my last patient. I changed clothes, the setters were already in the truck and I headed out to Jefferson County , Ohio, to a 3000 acre private tract to hunt grouse.
Betty pointed the first grouse, backed by her sire ,Shiner. I did not even try to shoot as grouse are so scarce now. By the third productive point, I decided that I would shoot. Twelve year old Shiner had the point, backed by Betty. At the shot, the bird dropped and I sent the dogs to fetch, but both bells went silent once more. I dropped down into the ravine and found both dogs pointing a blowdown. I walked up and picked up a wing-tipped grouse by hand. After some picture taking, the day turned into disaster.
We were walking back to the truck when Betty disappeared into the blue. Betty, is a moderately close working setter with a full choke nose. I had 2 bells on her neck because of the snow cover, but I had turned her beeper collar off. This area is an old abandoned strip mine area with high walls spoil banks, stip ponds every where. I hollered, blew the whistle, and walked until pitch dark, then went back to the truck. I have a key to the gates in this area, so I drove back down in 2 miles and waited until 9:00pm and then drove back home. I left a blanket and some dog food.
There was little sleep in the Picken's household that night. My wife was very upset. I got up at 5:00am and drove the 25 miles back out to the cover on roads treacherous with black ice. No, Betty was not waiting for me where I had left the blanket and food, and I honestly felt she was probably dead. I drovve back down into the cover and in the area where I saw her last, I thought I heard a dog yip thru my open window. I turned off the truck and heard the tinkling of her bells coming down out of the strip pits. She came out into the beams of my truck looking dazed and confused. She didnt seem to recognize me, but finally the look of confusion left her face, and she rushed into me. Not ashamed to admit that I was crying. Betty, like her mother Speck, who died last summer at age 14, has been a blessing and a wonderful dog to hunt with. Everybody always wants to hunt with Betty. Betty is the dog in my avatar. I am posting the pictures from yesterdays hunt. Betty is the blue belton setter on the left---the gun, my old faithful Parker VH 16, 1 frame, 28" now choked IC/IC.
Thank you Lord for another day with my dogs.
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