Dave is a good friend of mine and he is very much like an older brother I never had. I like this article of his, and like Dave, it has taken me more than a few years to learn to slow down while out in the field with my dogs. In retrospect I now know I pulled my dog(s) from so many birds over the years as I mindlessly death marched from where I was to where I was heading. Fortunately, they were all far better sports than I think I ever could have been had the situation been reversed. I also remember his Powder's last season in Arizona and remember the last point I ever saw her make as clearly as if it happened just this morning.

​We had selected an area I had hunted a few days prior, as the area had been rich with birds. We left late as was the custom when hunting with Dave in Arizona, after drinking far too much coffee in town no less. Dave also doesn’t like to drive the short way to this particular area, as he feels it’s too rough of a ride, so we went the long way with nearly double the mileage and at a stately pace befitting the gentleman David is. Normally this isn’t a bother as I truly enjoy spending time with Dave and having the bonus of being given a personal windshield tour of an area I am in love with. However, this day was one of many in southern Arizona where the temperatures can rise and become problematic even for fit dogs in the ‘dead of winter’.

​After taking some water, and a brief rest in the shade cast by some trees high on a cut bank, she began to reanimate. She was hunting. I had hunted with her enough to know her style. Powder was sure she had something. It wasn’t long when Dave stated, “We need to go now, there aren’t any birds here”. As I stared at Powder over Dave’s shoulder, I watched her lockup into a classic staunch point. I told Dave we should get busy and do our job, if for anything, to honor his ancient companion. At first, he didn’t believe me, but once he turned and saw the Old Girl casting her spell on a covey of quail, it was game on. We did our part and Powder was able to make a few retrieves, each made with possibly the biggest smile I had ever seen on her face. It was a good day, and that last time I ever had the joy of hunting with Powder. Yes, slowing down also lets you take things in, and etch them to your memory. What a lovely day. What a lovely memory. She wasn’t my dog, but I loved her just the same.