Lately I've been feeling a lot of love for my hunting dog who, at 11 years, still spends days afield with and because of how hard she hunts, could easily be taken for a dog half her age. She's proof that being spoiled rotten in the house has no negative correlation to performance in the field. Here are a few pics of my girl. Let's see some pics of yours and if you have a story to tell, let's hear it.
This is my girl as a youth. She is a beauty queen, but totally unaware of it and a complete goofball.
A very successful day afield on opening day of quail season. (Did I tell you she points?) One bird shy of a limit...not her fault. 'nuff said.
Her first trip to the Dakotas. She's never seen so much grass...or so many grouse.
Here we are after a day on the National River Grasslands in Northwest South Dakota. Late October and freakishly hot. In the 90's. We can only hunt very early morning and late evening so the dogs don't overheat. This was the trip my brother joined us for and he fell head over heels in love with her and before our next trip, he'd bought and started training his own lab.
And this is her today. It's dinner time and that gives her the right to get in my lap and let me know supper's overdue. Her stomach is a more accurate time piece than the Atomic clock. She worships her belly.