Pennsylvania Game News - December 2012 - 16

each other. Prior to the second flush they had been walking along the stone wall and the old man had become lost in the beauty of the scene before him, so much so that he was almost on top of Brandy before he saw her frozen in position near a little clump of winterberry. The old man motioned the dog forward, resulting in an explosion of powdery snow as a grouse erupted from the cover. The shot was an easy straight away and the bark of the Fox brought forth a puff of feathers. Before the last spinning feather had floated to the ground, Brandy retrieved the bird and was dropping it into the old man’s hand. Around noon they stopped, and the old man brushed the snow from a log to sit on. Neither he nor his dogs were getting any younger, so he wanted to take a break, eat lunch and dress out the grouse before calling it a day. Breaking in a new cover to the old man was like breaking in a new pair of hunting boots — it takes time before both become comfortable, and he believed then they had plenty of time later to accomplish that task. The old man placed the grouse next to him on the log and both dogs lay down close by and stared at them. With the soft sunlight now

shedding its light on their muzzles the old man suddenly became aware of how gray both of them had become. For an instant he was filled with a feeling of dread, wondering how much longer they all would be able to do this. That feeling passed the instant their favorite grape jelly and boloney sandwiches they would share appeared from the lunch bag. Both of his retrievers liked nothing better than munching on a slice of cold apple, which they shared later while the old man sat back and reflected on the day’s events. This he liked to do, knowing there may never be another day like it. Sadly, in his early years the number of empty shells and birds killed dictated if the day had been good or not. As he got older he began to see things he should have seen years before, and he came to realize every day alone in the field with his dogs is another prized memory. Fate can be cruel, though. At the time there were no whispers to warn the old man, and he had no way of knowing it, but that day turned out to be the last time the three of them would hunt together. This story was not written to bring a tear to your eye or to epitomize this old man or his dogs. In fact, the old man could be anyone who loves upland hunting, dogs and old shotguns. I wrote it to make you think about those days spent in the field with your dogs and how special they are because they are all too few. 

Cover Painting by Mark anderson
THIS MONTH’S COVER, “Old Drop Tine,” depicts a whitetail any hunter would be proud to harvest. Limited edition 16x20inch signed giclee prints are available from the artist at 348 Deer Creek Valley Road, Tarentum, PA 15084. Prints on paper are $95; $150 on canvas. Shipping is free. Check or money order only. For more information, email mark@mcgand.com

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Pennsylvania Game News - December 2012

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