Looking at him standing there all 8 inches tall, we had our doubts when my Dad's Old Army Sargent (who had turned into a Farmer) told us we were looking at the "Best Pheasant Dog that he'd ever seen working Afield!"
At 10 years old I looked sideways at my Dad and each of us did a double-take sizing up "Little Squirt" one more time.
One thing for sure, just watching him shake with excitement, we knew the word "Hunting" meant something to him and he was ready to go.
It was the 1960's and the farm we were hunting on was situated just below Fairfield Washington.
Located in the middle of Lentil, Corn and Wheat Fields it produced some of the best Pheasant, Quail and Hungarian Partridge Hunting found.
The farmers didn't plow the fields right up to the fence lines like they do now, but would leave enough cover, (so the Coyotes didn't have the advantage over the birds.)
Heading into the knee high wheat, it wasn't long before the "Squirt" had his first Rooster on the run.
I couldn't help laughing when all we could see of this Little Long Haired Dachshund, was the heads of moving wheat as he tunneled his way through.
Every now and then, up he would spring, like a little "Jack In The Box" trying to get his bearings, then back down again, hot on the scent.
Before we knew it, up came a Rooster catching everyone off guard.
A few feathers floating in the wind, was all that came from our three hurried shots and the Rooster had set it's wings.
Down the slope he glides for what looked like half a mile, with Little Squirt still in hot pursuit.
Looking obviously concerned that we might loose sight of the pair, our friend had us all jump onto his tractor and away we went downhill, trying to catch any sign of his Persistent Pup.
After a wild ride, all of us holding on to our shotguns and the tractor for dear life, there at the bottom of the hill stood one proud little Pup, latched onto his prize and a look on his face as if to say, "Hey! What took you guys so long?"
I guess Dynamite does come in small packages.
Doug
