Last Saturday was the opening day of pheasant season in Connecticut. I was sharing a series of fields with three other guys. I went to one end with my little Toller; they started from the other end with four Springers. The cover was native grasses, shoulder high in a lot of places and thick. My little bitch weighs just 35 lbs. and she could only get through the grass by leaping from one spot to another. Still, by the time those other, bigger dogs had found their first bird, she had found three and we had our limit. Those other dogs were quartering back and forth across the fields; my little Toller has learned the kinds of cover the pheasants prefer and she went straight to those spots, stuck her nose up to catch a scent and then went right to the birds. I was so proud of her.