The uplands will be a lonely place for me this fall without my old friend. I came home from work today to find Spanky sick. A quick drive to the vet didn't bring the news I wanted to hear. I don't remember all the technical terms the vet used but basically Spanks kidneys were shutting down and he didn't think he had many days left. So I loaded my old friend in the cab of my truck and we went to one of our favorite hunting spots for one last run.
Wrapped in my favorite hunting shirt that carries blood stains from countless birds I shot over him and with my old whistle that I bought on my way home with Spanky nearly a decade ago draped over his faithful old body, I laid my old friend to rest. As I laid him down in his grave I heard the chirp of a hen quail fussing over her brood. I looked up to see the covey I call my training covey hop up on a dead tree. The old male bird sat perched on top of a cedar post and started calling his salute to my old friend. The cock bird sat up there calling continually as I finished burrying my old friend then sat and watched the sunset with him one last time. It was a fitting tribute to the best dog I have ever known and one who loved to hunt quail. He will be missed...







