Posted By: Pointer
Tess - 01/04/13 11:57 PM
Well, my old Tess has moved on down that long old road we all must take some day. She would have been seventeen had she made it until April of this year. A long time to live for a pointer who was hunted hard for a long time.
She survived being knocked out cold by a passing car, thrown to the side of the road, and being subsequently sewed up with dental floss by me, being ripped open by barbed wire twice while she was "baggy" after whelping puppies, snake bites, and the good Lord only knows what else she ran into that I don't know about.
She was never the softest mouth in the kennel, and she seemed impossible to control without the use of an electric collar, but the ole hardhead with hard predator eyes taught me to hunt, and we had so many adventures together thru the years.
My wife once remarked that she seemed to be flying over the ground as she moved thru the field. She had such a light step.
When bred to a double grandson of Snakefoot (I called him Jody), she threw some really nice pups. My PeeWee was the "left over" from her last litter. I kept the best of the litter and PeeWee, simply because noone wanted him. Jr., the most promising pup, met an early demise on the highway in front of my house, and I was left with guess who? The one little female in that litter, I traded to my friend Calvin Canamore, and she became a local legend. PeeWee and a brother up around Blessing are still great at finding birds, and carrying on their mom's legacy of being lovable outlaws.
Rest in peace old girl. I'll catch up one day.
She survived being knocked out cold by a passing car, thrown to the side of the road, and being subsequently sewed up with dental floss by me, being ripped open by barbed wire twice while she was "baggy" after whelping puppies, snake bites, and the good Lord only knows what else she ran into that I don't know about.
She was never the softest mouth in the kennel, and she seemed impossible to control without the use of an electric collar, but the ole hardhead with hard predator eyes taught me to hunt, and we had so many adventures together thru the years.
My wife once remarked that she seemed to be flying over the ground as she moved thru the field. She had such a light step.
When bred to a double grandson of Snakefoot (I called him Jody), she threw some really nice pups. My PeeWee was the "left over" from her last litter. I kept the best of the litter and PeeWee, simply because noone wanted him. Jr., the most promising pup, met an early demise on the highway in front of my house, and I was left with guess who? The one little female in that litter, I traded to my friend Calvin Canamore, and she became a local legend. PeeWee and a brother up around Blessing are still great at finding birds, and carrying on their mom's legacy of being lovable outlaws.
Rest in peace old girl. I'll catch up one day.