Pap,
I have to agree. My Dad always had at least one Bird Dog. There was Rex, Sister, Sally, Buster, Mac, and Lucious. All Setters.
Dad and I must have walked a thousand miles across the old abandoned farms in Wood County, Texas as long as there were birds in East Texas.
Dad used that time to teach me proper Gun Safety, how to train dogs, about all of the wildlife that lived in our country, and about how grown men were supposed to act. I would give ANYTHING to go on one more bird hunt with Dad.
The quail disappeared from here sometime back in the 80s and I moved off to pursue my career so we quit going.
Dad died in 2004 but he was the first thing I thought about early one morning back in June of this year when I heard for the first time in years, that mistakable “Bob White”. I sure hope they come back!
Coach
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"Filet that fish? Hell naw! I'll scale him, gut him, fry him up in grease, take him by the head and tail, and play him like a French Harp!" - Uncle Paul sometime in the 60s.