Busting Buster's Birds Part VI-A

Monday morning found Bobby Pickett, his scout Mack, and 75 year old John Jones back in their routine of John fixing breakfast before dawn and the first brace of dogs let go as the sun peaked over the horizon.  They all had hooded sweatshirts on under their Carhartt jackets and gloves on their hands.  It might still be high summer, muggy and hot, in the quail plantation country of South Georgia where they were all from, but here on the prairie of North Dakota the days were getting shorter and the morning temperatures felt like winter in the South.

      The horses and the dogs seemed to appreciate the changing weather as the dogs pulled harder on their leads and the horses seemed to prance in anticipation of following the dogs across the prairie in the crisp morning air.  As summer was coming to a close, Bobby had made arrangements to send home some of the dogs that would not make the traveling team.  Some handlers, especially those on the shooting dog circuit, had huge strings, but Bobby always preferred quality over quantity.  He tried to pick fewer than 10 or so all age dogs and half that many derbies to take on the road with him as he worked his way south hoping to get two or three qualified for the National in February.  Rebel Yell, the best adult dog in Bobby’s string, was already qualified.  His littermate, Rebel Girl, had won the Amateur Chicken Championship but needed to win two qualifying stakes to get her first ticket to Grand Junction.  There were other dogs on the string that could get there as well if they drew the right brace at the right time and put together a race he knew they were capable of.

      Winning was the challenge.  Bobby always had his dogs ready to win and got his share of the placements but there were so many factors beyond his control – the course, the weather, the time of day, the birds, and the bracemate.  It was not unusual for a trial to be run on wild birds with multiple courses for days at a time where dog after dog goes birdless or has a covey or two.  Then a dog will come along when the conditions change a little, the birds will be out on the edges, it will have a half dozen finds, and win the championship.  The vagaries of wild birds cause many to seek out the planted bird trials on the shooting dog circuit where every dog gets some fresh birds thrown down for its brace.  Bobby figured if it ever came to that in the all age game he would give up field trials and go to work for a plantation where he could still feel that rush of excitement every time a wild covey whirred up and away.

      The next trial would be one of those tough tests where the luck of the draw would play a big part.  It was run in the short grass prairie along the border between the Dakotas and some of the courses ran on one of the Sioux Reservations.  Reports from the trainers in that area had been poor all summer with a late hatch and with few birds.  The weather report also called for one last blast of summer heat which would make it all the more difficult for the dogs.  Bobby and Trey had been talking about Buster and wanted to run him in the championship as well as the derby, but they were leaving it up to Preacher John to decide.

      John was of two minds.  Buster would have no problem with the hour or the heat.  But he was still a derby and would have time to make his mark in the world, but then at 75, John might not be there to see it.  He didn’t have to decide until they got to the draw the night before the championship was scheduled to start.  John figured he’d think about it on the drive down to the trial.  Bobby had stopped pestering him about it. 

      After Dr. Lucinda Ford had visited and ridden off for a picnic with Bobby, the phone had started ringing every evening and Bobby would wander out in the yard for private conversations.  He and Luce just chatted about their days like they were old friends.  Bobby told her how the dogs had done and assured her that Buster had no ill affects from the porcupine quills she had helped pull.  She told him about arterial transplants and the other intricacies of working with stroke victims.  They talked about Bobby’s schedule.  The trial started on a Friday and would last into the next week.  Luce was planning to come down and ride with them for the weekend.  She seemed genuinely interested in seeing a field trial and spending more time with Bobby.  He had not been looking for a relationship, but was excited about seeing her again.

      Thursday morning they loaded up the dogs and horses and headed down the road.  They were there in plenty of time to stake out the dogs and put the horses in the corrals provided by the ranch owner.  The draw was held in a hall in town at a cocktail party hosted by last year’s winning owner.  He was not there and had not been there when his dog won, but was happy to foot the bill for the 15 or so trainers and the few owners and trial officials who were there.  As they walked in the club secretary was handing out entry slips and the handlers were pulling up seats at the tables and filling them out.  John sat down next to Bobby who asked, “How many slips do you want?”

      When John said, “Two.”  Bobby smiled without comment.  He believed in the young pointer and the old man, and looked forward to having him spend the entire season with him, although they had never talked about what John’s plans were once they left their summer training grounds and began to work their way back to the trials in the South.

      Friday they would run an open all age stake that was restricted to young dogs that had not yet qualified for championship stakes.  It was something that had been done in the past, and was seeing a resurgence as many trials had upped their qualifying criteria.   The championship drew 38 dogs and would start at the conclusion of the all age the derby would run last and finish up Monday.

      The five braces of dogs in the qualifier gave the handlers a glimpse of what to expect in the championship.  Two dogs had a find a piece and they were in the first brace when it was still relatively cool.  When the first brace of the championship broke away after the lunch break it was hot and continued to get hotter as the afternoon progressed.  There was plenty of water in tanks and in the bottoms of the sloughs but no dogs pointed a bird in the four braces they got in that afternoon.  The forecast called for it to get hotter each day.  Bobby had Rebel Girl in the first brace Saturday morning, Rebel Yell was in the last brace which would run Sunday afternoon.  Buster would run his first championship brace late in the afternoon on Saturday.

      Lucinda arrived in time for supper on Friday and the four of them went out for steaks although she warned them all to limit their intake of red meat if they didn’t want to end up as one of her patients.  After dinner they got the dogs out four at a time and gave them a chance to do their business and get a drink of water before they were put up for the night.  Buster looked on with what looked like disdain from the back seat of the truck as he waited to be let out and then brought into the motel for the night.  There were times when John wondered if Buster really understood that he was a dog like the rest of the ones on the string.  It was clear that he had come to expect his position sleeping inside with John and riding in the cab of the truck. 

      Once the dogs were put up, John, Mack, and Buster headed for their motel room leaving Bobby and Luce to work out the rest of their evening on their own.  The two finally agreed to go inside and have a nightcap in Lucinda’s room.  It was late when Bobby finally headed for his own room.  Lucinda would have willingly had him stay longer, but understood the underlying shyness of the man and figured she would wait for him to figure it out on his own.

      They were all up early.  The three men had artery-clogging breakfasts at the all night diner.  Lucinda had a bowl of oatmeal and a bran muffin.  Most of the other trainers came in while they were eating.  Bobby’s bracemate in the first brace was a wealthy guy from Kentucky who bred and ran his own dogs with a lot of success.  He was somehow considered an amateur even though he profited each year from selling puppies and started dogs.  He had a full time trainer who worked his dogs and handled the young ones.  But when it came to the championships he didn’t want to share the glory with anyone.  His huge horse trailer had an apartment in the front and he was staying out at the grounds.  Bobby didn’t like being braced with the guy as his super competitiveness and his superior attitude had led him to commit some less than savory acts to take out a bracemate in the past. 

      There was always talk in the freewheeling world of field trials about the cutthroat behavior of some during the competition, but for the most part the pros helped each other when they could knowing that a good turn today could be returned at an important moment at a future trial.  The man from Kentucky wanted to win at any cost and could not be trusted during a brace.  There were a number of dogs on his string that he would use just to lessen the chances of a bracemate.  Fortunately for Bobby, Girl was braced with one of the man’s best dogs and might be his only chance to find any birds. 

      It hadn’t cooled off that much during the night and most people were wearing only a light jacket or no jacket at all as the first brace came to the line.  When Mack let Girl go and Bobby hit the whistle, Girl was off like a rocket reaching out to the front in true prairie all age fashion.  The Kentucky dog was big and strong, but his handler kept him on a shorter string.  Bobby had watched the man many times and was pretty sure it was about dominance and control.  When his trainer had run the dog as a derby he was as good as any derby Bobby had seen in recent years with the possible exception of Buster.  The man rarely won on the prairies, but could thread his dogs through a needle if needed when they got to the tighter grounds of the South.  It was there he had garnered a number of impressive wins.

      Girl kept showing to the front, and the other handler was letting his dog reach out more.  At the 30 minute mark Girl went down into a draw and didn’t come out.  Bobby swung and he could see the Kentuckian speed up to get ahead.  It took a few minutes for Bobby and the judge to spot her but she was locked up in the draw with birds pinned in front of her.  Bobby shot at the flush and he and Mack gave her water before sending her to the front.  They loped along behind as they caught up with the other handler.  Just as they did the big white pointer stopped off to the left with his own find and Girl swung that way and backed from 75 yards as soon as she saw the other dog.

            By the time they had got to the dogs, flushed the birds and were back on course there were less than 15 minutes left in the hour.  The judges now had two dogs to work with if they could finish strong.  Girl was soon way to the front.  As the clock wound down she dropped into another draw and did not come out.  Her bracemate got there a minute later and he too was lost to sight.  Everyone rode down to where they had last seen the dogs and found them standing in the bottom of the draw.  Girl was in front with her bracemate almost beside her.  The birds lifted before either handler got to his dog and both fired.  Bobby was a little startled, but knew the judges would sort it out.  The brace ended with Girl once again well to the front of her bracemate.  Not only did she out-bird him, she clearly had the better race.  With the temperature rising and the overall lack of birds, Bobby knew she’d be tough to beat.