Dave McCracken
Moderator In Memoriam
I recall what Brian's statement when he first caught sight of Ol' Buck.
After a brief pause, he said," Now, deep down, I know why there's an American Kennel Club"....
Buck's ancestors included a yellow Lab and a German Shepherd, but there were others.
Imagine a large Lab's head on a medium sized mutt body with the wolflike guard hairs of a Shepherd. End that with a rear view of the largest glands that ever a mutt was blessed with, you'd think that Nature had favored Buck on the ends but stinted him in the middle.
His owner was named Kyle, who could have served as source material for Jeff Foxworthy's Redneck jokes. Kyle swore that Buck has sired more mutts than any other dog in the county.
Lyle lived in a trailer behind his Mom's house, had about the same number of teeth and tatoos, and had sired a few mutts himself, including two with a first cousin. When Brian had met him previously,Kyle failed to mention he was on parole. His crime involved somebody's vehicle, controlled substances and moonshine likker. No violence.
Hog Heaven was the name we gave to a piece of property that Brian was co owner of. Several lawyers had bought a good sized chunk of Carroll County farmland, took it as a tax shelter,and were waiting to turn it into a subdivision when the burbs crept closer. It happened, most of it is now one of the fancy upscale subdivisions between Eldersburg and Westminster, north of 32 and east of 26. Now it's titled Foxcroft or maybe Swain's Landing or similar, but to us it'll always be Hog Heaven.
But back in the later 80s, it was a chunk of farmland, full of gulleys and rocks. But,as a hunting ground, it had some use and more potential.
Brian had hired Kyle the previous year to reduce predators, plant food plots, and stock pen raised quail and ringnecks. This he did, and was often seen patrolling the property, doing his duty, or so we thought. He lived within a quarter mile so he walked over. Besides, he had neither driver's license nor running vehicle.
BY the second year, we could hunt an hour and put up a couple coveys and a few roosters. Trouble was, Brian's Brit was young and needed experience. And when she went into heat that November, we were stymied.
Then Kyle offered us the use of Buck.
Buck did have a nose that could find a quail in a hurricane. He had showed up on his own a couple times and joined our party. He would not point, but would stand still for a few seconds, then he'd try to eat the birds. Forget retrieving.
We went and bought an electronic collar for Buck to dissuade him from eating the birds,either pre or post shot, and tried him out. It worked, somehow.
We could work over a couple gulleys and plots, put up a few coveys and roosters, then I'd go home, clean up and I'd go to work at the prison on 3-11 shift.
We'd drop off Buck at Kyle's,watch him sashay up the drive, Cojones akimbo, then leave. Oft we'd see Kyle head out to Hog Heaven to "Look after the place" as we drove off.
After a while, we noted that the birds stayed in certain areas, or at least we found them there. By the following year, it was obvious that the area farthest from the road had few birds. The closer parts had plenty, so we fell out of the habit of going to the unproductive areas. By that time, of course, Belle had come out of heat and we often worked both dogs. It was an interesting juxtaposition of styles. Belle's stylish work and Buck's workmanlike but plodding moves.
So, one fall day Brian and I were using both dogs and nothing was working. So we moved over to the unproductive areas further from the road and tried moving along the edge between a woodlot and a field. We found no birds but did find something else.
What we found were tiny circles of cultivated dirt. Each one was about 3 feet in diameter, and had one single stalk sticking up in the middle. The plants were long gone. Each little plot was invisible until we were practically stepping on it.They were placed right at the edge, so the growth would blend in to the treeline.
Kyle's devotion to duty was explained.
Brian was quite angry. So was I, to a lesser degree. It wasn't my tax shelter Kyle was growing his reefer on. Brian rested his A-5 on his shoulder and we conferred. With 20-20 hindsight, it became clear. Kyle had a reason to be over on this land when Brian retained him to be gamekeeper. By planting food and selectively reducing predators so the bird populations were concentrated elsewhere, he habituated Brian and myself into staying away from his plants.
So we went to see Kyle. Brian did the talking, I just put on the face I used in prison and stood nearby with arms folded.
For a cool fall day, Kyle sure did sweat. I don't know how much "Greenish brown vegetable matter" 10 or 11 Cannabis Sativa plants would make, but I'm sure it was enough for an Intent to Distribute charge. And way more than Kyle needed. His parole was done by this time, BTW.
And after firing Kyle, Brian handed him $50 and bought Buck.
After in the Blazer, I asked why. Much as I appreciated Buck's nose, I didn't think he was worth $50.
Brian,after glancing back where the two dogs lay comfortably intertwined, said that Belle was working better with him. That was true, she had gotten the experience she needed and learned to handle coveys as well as single birds. And Buck had learned to if not point, at least stand over the birds instead of attacking them.
"Besides, I have a couple buddies that'll be amazed at seeing him work the cover and come up with birds after their highstrung pointers gallop past".
"Well", quoth I,"What happens when Belle comes into heat again?"
"Doc Lewis charges $100 more for a vasectomy than just neutering, but I think it's worth it".
And so it was....
After a brief pause, he said," Now, deep down, I know why there's an American Kennel Club"....
Buck's ancestors included a yellow Lab and a German Shepherd, but there were others.
Imagine a large Lab's head on a medium sized mutt body with the wolflike guard hairs of a Shepherd. End that with a rear view of the largest glands that ever a mutt was blessed with, you'd think that Nature had favored Buck on the ends but stinted him in the middle.
His owner was named Kyle, who could have served as source material for Jeff Foxworthy's Redneck jokes. Kyle swore that Buck has sired more mutts than any other dog in the county.
Lyle lived in a trailer behind his Mom's house, had about the same number of teeth and tatoos, and had sired a few mutts himself, including two with a first cousin. When Brian had met him previously,Kyle failed to mention he was on parole. His crime involved somebody's vehicle, controlled substances and moonshine likker. No violence.
Hog Heaven was the name we gave to a piece of property that Brian was co owner of. Several lawyers had bought a good sized chunk of Carroll County farmland, took it as a tax shelter,and were waiting to turn it into a subdivision when the burbs crept closer. It happened, most of it is now one of the fancy upscale subdivisions between Eldersburg and Westminster, north of 32 and east of 26. Now it's titled Foxcroft or maybe Swain's Landing or similar, but to us it'll always be Hog Heaven.
But back in the later 80s, it was a chunk of farmland, full of gulleys and rocks. But,as a hunting ground, it had some use and more potential.
Brian had hired Kyle the previous year to reduce predators, plant food plots, and stock pen raised quail and ringnecks. This he did, and was often seen patrolling the property, doing his duty, or so we thought. He lived within a quarter mile so he walked over. Besides, he had neither driver's license nor running vehicle.
BY the second year, we could hunt an hour and put up a couple coveys and a few roosters. Trouble was, Brian's Brit was young and needed experience. And when she went into heat that November, we were stymied.
Then Kyle offered us the use of Buck.
Buck did have a nose that could find a quail in a hurricane. He had showed up on his own a couple times and joined our party. He would not point, but would stand still for a few seconds, then he'd try to eat the birds. Forget retrieving.
We went and bought an electronic collar for Buck to dissuade him from eating the birds,either pre or post shot, and tried him out. It worked, somehow.
We could work over a couple gulleys and plots, put up a few coveys and roosters, then I'd go home, clean up and I'd go to work at the prison on 3-11 shift.
We'd drop off Buck at Kyle's,watch him sashay up the drive, Cojones akimbo, then leave. Oft we'd see Kyle head out to Hog Heaven to "Look after the place" as we drove off.
After a while, we noted that the birds stayed in certain areas, or at least we found them there. By the following year, it was obvious that the area farthest from the road had few birds. The closer parts had plenty, so we fell out of the habit of going to the unproductive areas. By that time, of course, Belle had come out of heat and we often worked both dogs. It was an interesting juxtaposition of styles. Belle's stylish work and Buck's workmanlike but plodding moves.
So, one fall day Brian and I were using both dogs and nothing was working. So we moved over to the unproductive areas further from the road and tried moving along the edge between a woodlot and a field. We found no birds but did find something else.
What we found were tiny circles of cultivated dirt. Each one was about 3 feet in diameter, and had one single stalk sticking up in the middle. The plants were long gone. Each little plot was invisible until we were practically stepping on it.They were placed right at the edge, so the growth would blend in to the treeline.
Kyle's devotion to duty was explained.
Brian was quite angry. So was I, to a lesser degree. It wasn't my tax shelter Kyle was growing his reefer on. Brian rested his A-5 on his shoulder and we conferred. With 20-20 hindsight, it became clear. Kyle had a reason to be over on this land when Brian retained him to be gamekeeper. By planting food and selectively reducing predators so the bird populations were concentrated elsewhere, he habituated Brian and myself into staying away from his plants.
So we went to see Kyle. Brian did the talking, I just put on the face I used in prison and stood nearby with arms folded.
For a cool fall day, Kyle sure did sweat. I don't know how much "Greenish brown vegetable matter" 10 or 11 Cannabis Sativa plants would make, but I'm sure it was enough for an Intent to Distribute charge. And way more than Kyle needed. His parole was done by this time, BTW.
And after firing Kyle, Brian handed him $50 and bought Buck.
After in the Blazer, I asked why. Much as I appreciated Buck's nose, I didn't think he was worth $50.
Brian,after glancing back where the two dogs lay comfortably intertwined, said that Belle was working better with him. That was true, she had gotten the experience she needed and learned to handle coveys as well as single birds. And Buck had learned to if not point, at least stand over the birds instead of attacking them.
"Besides, I have a couple buddies that'll be amazed at seeing him work the cover and come up with birds after their highstrung pointers gallop past".
"Well", quoth I,"What happens when Belle comes into heat again?"
"Doc Lewis charges $100 more for a vasectomy than just neutering, but I think it's worth it".
And so it was....