My old Brittany, Mandy has been gone for almost 5 years now but most of my great days afield revolve around her. She had the heart of a lion.
She demonstrated that heart one day in the goose blind when dropped a huge gander who jumped to his feet and was ready to fight even if unable to fly. Mandy was out of the blind before he hit the ground and the two of them circled each other like a pair of prize fighters. The gander made a couple of jabs at her which she deftly side stepped. About the third time he made a poke at her she jumped in, grabbed the gander's extended neck and for a few eternal seconds all I could see was a dust cloud of fur and feathers. What was only seconds seemed like minutes. Pretty soon the dust cleared and the lion hearted Brit dragged a very large and very deceased goose back to me.
Her favorite game bird had to be valley quail. She loved to hunt anything but I could tell by her intensity level when she was on quail. Her stub of a tail would have an almost audible frequency it was moving so fast. It seemed she loved hunting quail more than anything.
She pointed one covey and I stepped in to flush the birds. I made a nice double with my little 28 gauge Beretta 686 and Mandy went out to retrieve the pair. She made it almost back to me when she locked up hard on point, with a quail in her mouth. She was pointing a tuft of grass that didn't look like it could hide a cricket, let alone a quail. I asked what she was doing. The birds are already gone. She ignored me and just kept pointing, all the while still holding the first quail. I toed the little tuft of grass and low and behold, out came a lone quail.
One last story. I parked at a local, popular, public hunting area just in time to see a guy coming out with his dog. I'd seen him before and spoke with him a couple of times. He always struck me as a know it all and today was no different. He had his three rooster pheasants and assured me they had hunted the ground pretty hard and there was little chance of me finding any birds. His dog he assured me, was exceptionally thorough and they had worked all the cover pretty hard to get those three birds. I congratulated him on his good morning and said I'd hunt it anyway and maybe get into some quail or huns.
Mandy and I headed down a particularly thick strip of grass that always seemed to hold birds despite being close to the parking area. We hadn't gone 75 yards when she locked up. I stepped up and told her okay. Out came two roosters, doing their best to imitate a post three pair of trap doubles. My favorite post when shooting doubles. I just reacted instinctively and had two puffs of feathers in the air simultaneously. Mandy started after the downed birds and swung around hard and locked up tight on point. I got my Beretta reloaded and told her okay. Out came a third rooster, slightly quartering to the right and at the shot, folded neatly.
Mandy retrieved the three birds and since the know it all was still at the parking area I just had to saunter back that way. He had a stunned look on his face and I just smiled as we loaded up and headed for home.
I miss that little Brit. She was a great little bird dog and taught me more than I ever taught her.
