Jack is still working on his relationship with barbed wire. Several weeks ago he went under wire here on the place at speed and dug a shallow trench all along the top of his head. On our hunting trip he once got hung up on wire and it took two of us to get him loose. I'm not sure whether this scar is from the earlier mishap or the hunting trip, but it looks like he will have an identifying mark for a long, long time-- maybe forever. Maybe he can pass it off as a dueling scar. He's German, after all.
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Had a neighbor, Jim Commons. He was a big, jovial farm boy from Indiana. Jim lived for shotguns and dogs.
When I met him, he had a massive German Shorthair male, "Dutch", who had long, strong legs and feet the size of pie plates. Damn, that dog could run! Dutch had a radar nose. No scent of pheasant, quail, grouse or chukar eluded him.
Jim and I hunted over Dutch for almost three seasons. Then, the Colorado State Patrol found Jim slumped over the wheel of his big rig. A large anurism had blown in his brain...He stroked out.
Jim's wife and we who were close to him kept watch as he lay in a coma for nearly a month. He finally died on the anniversary on his 60th birthday, 25 November, 2005.
I have never had a better hunting partner, nor hunted over a better dog.
You are blessed to have such critters, Rio.
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