Disappointing Weekend

Brody and I trudged up to Jackson Springs, North Carolina this weekend for another Hunt Test. (Jackson Springs is on the outskirts of Pinehurst.) It is a nice area but I wouldn't want to live there. It is in the sandhills of North Carolina, which is exactly what you get - sandy hills. And where you have sand, you have sand spurs. Generally this isn't a problem unless you are barefooted, but for a dog it is a significant problem. Besides, it gets really cold there. (More on the cold later.)

Brody is my wonderful brittany who loves to hunt. He is fondly known as a "bird finding machine" along with "Brody Baby", "cutie pie" and "sugar bug" among other things. Brody is often dismissed at first sight by many hunters who think he is just another cute pampered dog. Brody is in fact really cute and just about the happiest dog you have ever seen and a bit pampered if I do say so myself. He loves life! (And he is NOT as fat as he looks in the picture. Brody gets a fluffy winter coat that I don't like to trim during hunting season. If I trim his fur then he gets cuts on his belly and legs from all of the stickers and brush in the fields.) But once he gets in the bird field he makes all of those dismissive hunters eat their words. And I love to watch their amazement at my Brody Baby's skills. There isn't much better than proving someone wrong even if you can't gloat about it.

Sweet little Brody is working on getting his Master Hunter title. He has 2 of the 5 required qualifying legs. But this weekend did not bring any new qualifications. Here is how it went:

Saturday morning at 7:30 a.m., Brody had a good run until the gunner decided to shoot the quail in the back side from about 6 feet away. Although a good shot, it did nothing for the structural integrity of that poor bird. Brody held steady through the shot and went to retrieve the bird but was having no part of that messy bird. He picked it up and dropped it. His trainer/handler Scott gave him the command to fetch and Brody obliged him by picking the bird up again and promptly dropped it again. As you can imagine, the birds innards were not intact and Brody was having no part of that. (I imagine that bird entrails don't taste all that good.) While I commend him on being particular since I am at heart a girly girl, the hunt test rules state that this is a disqualifying event. Oh well, c'est la vie, que sera sera, and all that good stuff.

Sunday morning was just a disaster waiting to happen. The clocks sprung ahead an hour early this morning for daylight savings time so it was actually 7 a.m. in doggie time. Brody is like his mama and does not do mornings. And given that the hotel alarm clock went off but the radio station was not broadcasting on Sunday morning, I overslept giving us just enough time to frantically speed our way to the bird field but no time to prepare Brody for his brace. It was also about 28 degrees outside and Brody loves him some cold weather. There was a good frost on the ground so the only thing Brody could smell was QUAIL!!!! Sunday mornings are typically a problem for the early braces at a hunt test because all of the birds from the day before are hiding around the fields. This means there are a lot more temptations for a frisky, cold loving, non-morning, bird finding machine of a dog. At least the other dogs working on their master hunter titles thought it was a good morning to do their own thing also. :)

So, Brody and I will most likely make our way to Walhalla, South Carolina for another test in a few weeks. We may not though and just call our hunting season over. All these early mornings are just about to kill me!!!!!