I was looking back through some of last season’s pics the other day, and came across this one:
I stared at this pic for a while, remembering that fine fall day with a good friend in Montana. But more than anything, the sheer unbridled, unashamed joy of a dog covered in mud brought the smile to my face. It was a great day to be alive, for both of us. And at the end of the day, whether the game bag is full or empty, what more can you ask for?
Mouthful of Feathers 
The other day, I watched my GSP Calvin go down a cliff in the Los Padres NF, and when he stayed on point for a good two minutes, I had to call him off. I wasn’t going down there, as it was the start of a 500 ft. drop-off. He started a landslide, and went down with it, and I thought we’d lost him. He scampered up to the top of that cliff, all covered in dust and dirt, panting to beat the band, but definitely a happy camper. Turned out he was all scratched up on one leg, but he kept on hunting back to the truck, even though I tried to keep him next to me. I did first aid on his leg, and saw he was cut through the skin, but he never complained. He got a couple hamburgers added to the dogfood I gave him on the way back to town, and a bath before he could enter the house. He finally started limping after the bath, but he slept the next day, and is a running fool again. Such spirit, you have to take your hat off to them.
There’s nothing like having the love of a dog…and watching them love the world. Unbridled joy, as you say. The photo and your writing….you captured it perfectly, Bruce.