We all saw the bob fall adjacent to the road. The hunter who had made the shot briefly scanned the area where the fallen bird had hit the ground, looked at me to see if I had seen, then dropped his cap and moved on in pursuit of the flushed covey.
Max, my two year old Cocker, was up. It was his turn to "hunt dead". I dropped him off the truck, and heeled him over near the cap, and commanded "Dead, Max"...dead!". Ground cover was sparse. The bird should have been right there in view, but it wasn't. The little dog covered the area well...and then again, to no avail.
Suddenly, to my consternation, he stuck his nose in a hole...backed out for a second, then began digging furiously. I was concerned because I have had a dog bit by a rattlesnake under just such a circumstances. This time, however, the spunky little dog emerged with a very much alive bird. Max was proud as he delivered the bird to hand. So was I.
Edited by Pointer (01/21/15 04:48 PM)