bobeyerite
New member
Back in about 1960, I had a GSP named Brandy. He was a Crackerjack bird dog. He did it all. Even retrieved ducks from water. One day just Brandy and I went pheasant hunting near Isanti, MN. We no more than stepped into the field and Brandy went on point. I was shooting a 12 gauge SxS, with fixed chokes Modified and Improved Modified. I missed both barrels. We went about 10 feet and brandy pointed another Bird. Again I missed both barrels. A little ways more and another point. I missed both barrels again. Brandy turned around and ran behind me and bit me softly in the heal tendon of my leg. It really didn't hurt me, my boots and socks stopped most of the feelings. I said, "you're are right boy." I sat down and he laid next to me. I smoked a cigarette and I got up. I said "lets find them boy, I promise to do better." Sure enough 15 minutes later we had our 3 birds and were on our way home.
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I guess he was saying no more wiffels.