A good bird dog dies young

I never put much stock in the old saying that a man is lucky to own one good bird dog in his life. If that’s the case then that man just didn’t have enough dogs.

I’ve had a bunch, some better than others.

And I’ve been very lucky.

Baby Ruth wasn’t just good. She brought a joie de vivre to the hunt that only a young dog can.

She died last week, young and fit, only two and a half years old. Something awful, growing rapidly inside her, cut her life short.

The Monday before Thanksgiving we were hunting sharptail grouse on the CMR National Wildlife Refuge, Ruth flying through the sage and short gra...