Sometimes even good things can happen to a fool, and Lady was one of those blessings. I had a neighbor with a registered lab [censored] desperate to find a home for nine puppies; so he came to me with a offer to take my pic for free. I didn't want a dog, but my neighbor insisted and my youngest son who was with me at the time (and then named this lab Lady) swayed the argument in my neighbor's favor till I had no choice. In exasperation, I declared that I had no need of a registered lab pup because I didn't have a clue as to how to train the damn thing. But my neighbor even had a counter for that argument. He then went into his garage, brought out a book called "Water Dog" buy Richard A. Woolters and said; "read this book and do what it sez, and you'll be fine"! Well I did, at least for the most part; and it seems this little black lab (AKC - Tom's Redneck) Lady seemed almost human at times, so much so that most folks probably wouldn't believe the amazing stories I can tell of things I've witnessed her do. Lady became a member of the family in no time at all, and I quickly learned that she absolutely lived to hunt; and whenever we went dove shooting Lady was all business. So when I missed (was very often), she seemed to take it personally and would glare at me disgustedly as if to say; "how in hello could you have missed that bird"! So, you say, what were some of the things I saw her do? On one "hot" early morning December dove shoot attended by a large number of shooters; with birds flying everywhere, guns popping, doves falling, and people shouting I decided it best to keep her on a lease and pick up my birds when the flights slowed; till that time I'd just mark downed birds. So, while shooting I had one bird sail about 100 yards across the pasture and go down at the edge of a hog-wire fence row; so when the action subsided I had Lady pick up all my nearby birds, then we moved across the pasture to hunt the bird in the fence row. As we neared the fence row I could see the bottom strand of the wire fence actually on the ground. Lady was obviously too large to squeeze thru the fence and was trained not to climb fences; and as this fence seemed to stretch for hundreds of yards, I watched to see what she would do. As she neared the fence it was clear she smelled a bird in the thick vine growth on the other side and very quickly located the dead dove about 12" or so inside the fence. She tried sticking her head thru the fence to no avail and began pacing up and down the fence row looking for an opening. Not finding an opening, she came back to the point where the bird lay; she got her body as close against the fence as possible and laid down on her left side. She then reached her paw thru the wire and slapped at the bird until she had it in a position to get it in her mouth, at which point she proudly put the bird in my hand. To me this was a demonstration of intelligence; Lady faced a dilemma; and with no direction from me devised a plan to solve her problem.
In this same pasture on another Saturday morning, a shoot again attended by a number of shooters; I figured I best keep her on a lease, as she was obviously very excited by all the commotion. Although still missing my share of shots, I was also connecting on my share and marking them down for retrieval later. As the morning progressed, I knocked down a pair with my CHE Parker; and a few minutes later was surprised by 3 birds passing overhead and moving away. I fired too quickly and missed with the right, then feathered the bird well with the left; but it didn't fall, sailing instead and ultimately going down at the base of a hay roll far across the field. When I realized the bird was definitely going down (Lady's eyes were already glued to the bird); I shouted "mark", unleashed Lady, and then shouted "back"! Away she went, quickly circled the hay bale and headed back to me with her prize, but unknown to me she had somehow remembered and marked the double I'd dropped prior to this bird; so I watched in amazement as she retrieved both those birds and delivered all three to my hand (I have a pic of her holding those three birds somewhere). Lady did all sorts of amazing things on the dove field; I've watched her shake vines and bushes holding a wounded or dead bird until it fell to the point that she could get it in her mouth, I've sent her after wounded birds that were sailing 3'-4' above the ground for who knew how far and watched her leap and catch the bird in mid-air; and she always managed to find everyone's lost bird at the end of the day when the shoot was over. My shells to bird average was never higher than when I hunted with Lady; if a bird went down, Lady always managed to find it no matter how far away it may have sailed.
But she wasn't just a dove dog, she tracked down two deer my son shot with his bow and couldn't locate. She would not point quail, but she could smell and track quail; and she always managed to do so in a manner that would allow me to get in position before she flushed them. And on one occasion I took her rabbit hunting. My brother in law wanted to go and I knew his dogs were sorry as dirt. I figured if I had Lady along I'd
at least have some company while he was off chasing his crazy beagles, but Lady had never been exposed to rabbits or rabbit hunting prior to this trip. As the morning moved along, we jumped several rabbits, the dogs would run them 50' or so; and Lady would then investigate the commotion to see whatever it was these strange dogs were howling about; but I could also tell she was scenting the bunny. So while my BIL was off chasing his worthless dogs, I noted a promising briar patch and decided I'd have Lady investigate. I placed Lady at the upper end and told her to sit and stay; then walked down to the other end and said "Lady, hunt"! She had no idea what I wanted her to do; but she was always anxious to please me so she immediately lunged
into those briars to see whatever it was that had me so excited. About 20' into the thicket she bounded a rabbit that came balling out my end; I rolled that bunny with my old G Grade Lefever and said "Lady, back"! Lady picked up the bunny like she'd been retrieving rabbits all her life and placed it in my hand; the only bunny bagged the entire day. We had a long driveway at the house and being lazy, I got weary of walking down to the street; so one morning Lady greeted me as usual and for whatever reason, I pointed to the street and said "Lady, back"! Lady didn't have a clue what I wanted her to do, but knew I wanted something; so wondered down the driveway, made a few circles and spotted the rolled up paper. She then picked up that paper (a big Sunday edition) and brought it to hand; I praised her mightily and from that day onwards, she delivered the news. I learned from my sons, who were teenagers when Lady was in her prime, that Lady was a "girl magnet"; seems the girls were always impressed when they demonstrated Lady's "tricks". I could go on and on, but bottom line Lady was the best dog I've ever been privileged to own, or will own; and she'll never be replaced. Lady never learned to speak obviously, but somehow she just seemed to understand; the things she could do were amazing, especially given that I had "trained" her; why I'd never
even attempted to train a dog in my life before Lady came along.
Our last dove hunt took place in another pasture in early January after a freezing rain; a few late season doves were using the portion of the pasture where horses were being fed hay. Lady was now 14 years and 3 months old; was deaf, and no longer had the ability to get into the truck without being lifted. I took with me that day the John Linneman Optimus Lefever I'd just gotten back from Buck Hamlin (later featured in the DGJ); I'd never fired the gun before that day and didn't know what to expect, but I wanted to take the opportunity to be in the field with Lady; as I knew her days were numbered. With the pasture completely bare and no place to make a blind; we huddled by a corner fence post with Lady at my right side as always. I shot that old Lefever 21 times that day and together we bagged 9 doves, Lady placing each precious bird in my left hand as she had done hundreds of times over the years; what a memorable day! Three months later, Lady became very sick; I immediately took her to the vet who told me that, given her age, there was nothing I or he could do except humanely end her suffering. Reluctantly I agreed, but asked that he give me some time with her privately before moving forward. Placing Lady's head in my lap, I stroked her fur and talked to her; the whole time absolutely sickened by the thought that I was being forced to give her up for no other reason than that she was old and at the end of her allotted days. I held her as the shot was administered, I felt her body relax; I listened as she exhaled for the final time. And then, in front of God and everybody I
cried uncontrollably like a broken-hearted child. When finally composed to the point I could drive, I took Lady home and buried her on the bank of Collier's Creek; that seemed appropriate as Lady always seemed to enjoy splashing in that creek as much as she loved retrieving doves. Every man who loves the outdoors should be blessed with at least one exceptional canine partner during his lifetime; and for me that blessing was the "runt of the litter", a gentle sweet natured black fuzzy ball of energy named Lady. (Sorry, I obviously got carried away)
