Grandpa's hunting dog

Grandpa never was much for hunting, but he loved hound dogs and beagles and always had a few around that he trained to do various chores.

He also had a reputation as an expert guide for city folks who wanted to come out to Hudsonville to do a little hunting or fishing. Didn't mater what kind of game it was, Grandpa knew most every thing there was to know about it, even though he seldom ever fired his guns. Occasionally he would fetch his cane pole and go down to do a little fishing at the lake he and the Lord built.

One of Grandpa's regular uptown customers was a man named Herman. I can't tell you his last name for fear I will be sued by his descendants.
Almost everything I read now has a disclaimer notice in it to disavow any responsibility for whatever is written since it may or may not be true and in that case consulting an attorney is advised.

Herman came riding up to Grandpa's house in his old 1937 Ford pickup one day at the beginning of dove season. Grandpa and his favorite hound, Fido were sitting on the porch passing the time in leisure they both enjoyed, Grandpa rocking in his chair and jawing on a plug of Black Maria. Every few minutes grandpa would spit a little juice to a can he had out in the yard. Every time Fido heard the splat he would open one eye to see if Grandpa got it in the can. Fido was one of those hounds you never could figure out exactly what color he was. If the sun was shining on him in a certain way he appeared to be somewhere between brown ,and black, but he was the smartest dog any of us had ever seen.

Grandpa and Fido were both good at what they did.

Herman's truck skidded to a stop and he leaped out grinning and jabbering immediately. He loved the smell of fresh country air at Grandpa's place.

"Dave, you reckon there's any doves over in your Mansion field today?"

The Mansion Field was a special place. I was never allowed to venture through the woods and to the field to see what went on there, but whatever it was was between Grandpa and God 'cause Grandpa was Almighty particular about reading the Bible every day and attending church every time he could. Whatever went on there worked 'cause Grandpa had bumper crops of anything he planted there, and hunters who went there always came back happy.

"Herman, it's a beautiful, sunny day so I 'spect there may be one or two doves in the Mansion Field." Said Grandpa.

Hearing mention of the Mansion Field, Fido opened both eyes, yawned a deep loud moan and then stood up and stretched for a long minute before Grandpa spoke.

"Fido, go check the Mansion field and see if there are enough doves there to make it worthwhile for Herman to shoot at a few, and be careful you don't scare them off if there are any there."

Grandpa had scarcely finished speaking before Fido leaped off the porch and was in a full run across the yard, heading to the Mansion Field.
The field was a good half-mile from the house, but in ten minutes Fido was sprinting back towards the house with a stick in his mouth. With a long leap he bounded up on the porch in front of Grandpa and started shaking the stick vigorously like it was an an animal he was trying to shake to death.

"Dave,what in the world is wrong with that crazy hound?" Said Herman.

" Fido says there's more doves in the field than he can shake a stick at."

©-2011-Jay Hudson