|Logan Elm Billy Shows the Way|
hate, love, hate, love, hate, love young dogs. They are a pain to the nth degree. They make you so proud one day and embarrass you so much the next. You can fall in love on Saturday and give them away as a pet on Sunday.
You remember them in the box as a little tiny puppy. You think back to when they were eight weeks old running around the pen. Their first squeak on a track sticks in your mind. The first jump is a memory you never forget.
Then they run a deer. I know, almost all pups do, but it is still an aggravation. They go out of the cover into the oak woods and hack around on a squirrel. They flush a grouse/ pheasant/ woodcock/ redwinged black bird. And of course your buddy hears it fly.
When young dogs are looking good though, NOTHING is better! I have been running three young dogs out of Gypsy lately. I don't know if they will be worth a stick of chewed up gum in a couple of years, but right now I love them. They all have amazing stamina, good hunt, and they act like they want to be there. Down the road, who knows? But it's all good now.
I ran Butcher, Ob, Jed, Billy, Silly, and Dilly. The Old Man ran Dixie, Tony, Lim and Will. It was 38 degrees with a little rain.
|Logan Elm Dilly|
|Logan Elm Silly Walks out the Track|