. . . warm motel rooms
. . . home-cooked meals
. . . local watering holes
. . . rural day-spas
. . . comrades in arms
. . . the scent of the quarry
. . . the thrills
. . . the cool refreshing beverages
. . . the tipsy-taxi cabs
. . . the hunting camp love
. . . the Mouths-Full-Of-Feathers
. . . and the hunt itself. Bring it!
Mouthful of Feathers 
Cheers. 🙂
I loved every bit of it especially the wirehair
Thanks George, it’s actually a Griff. Hope you swing well this fall . . . Tom
Hey, that’s a great post! My bird dog is 12 this year, and she developed a serious case of distibular syndrome, so she won’t be hunting anymore…
I found your blog at Mallard of Discontent; I’m starting to look for fellow upland hunters here in the blogosphere.
Yep…it’s about time to head north with the red-haired Mad Hungarian Bitch. Might take the Vizsla, too.
Great post, Tom. Love the pics — am in the midst of trying to plan a grouse camp or two, myself. I’m with George, nice to see the Griff trying to make sense of all the goofy mostly-white dogs; I’m also with Hondo, time to get the crazy red-dogs tuned up in time for fall!
best
Andrew
Love that off-the-grid tipsy taxi.
Thanks for the images. Stoking me for the fall.