I've often heard that if a man has one great dog in his life then he's been fortunate. For me, that dog is surely Abby. She was a great duck dog, a faithful companion and a fierce competitor.
I got Abby as a puppy in 2005 from a breeder in Gilmer, TX. I was looking for a particular line out of a dog named Downtown Dusty Brown. He was the recent Purina Gun Dog of the Year and he sired some good pups. I brought home a beautiful black pup that never left my side. She quickly became a great family pet as Jen and I had four daughters, the youngest were 1 year old twins. Abby grew up with our kids and loved them as much as they loved her. But I didn't get Abby to be a "pet", I got Abby to get ducks.
I sent her off to a buddy of mine for training and very early on he called to tell me that Abby was different from the other dogs he was training...more drive, more trainability, more determination. She took correction well and progressed quickly. He talked me into letting him run her in field trials and Abby got her senior title without a fail. Not a big deal, but I've no doubts that Abby could have done anything and never advancing past Senior was my call. She didn't need trophies and ribbons...she had this insatiable need to hear whistling wings and shotgun blasts.
On her first weekend of teal season in 2006, Abby picked up all 64 birds we killed over two days, and a legend among my hunting buddies was born. I've hunted over a lot of dogs, as had they, but Abby was indeed different. She did things beyond her training. I'd call her off a line and sometimes she'd ignore me....and then she'd go straight to a duck that I hadn't seen fall. She was smarter than me and worse than that, she knew it. Abby is the only dog that I've ever seen get a standing ovation from a duck blind...seriously. A duck was diving on her once and Abby just wouldn't quit. Finally as she got close the duck went under.....So did Abby. After about 3 seconds, but seemed like 30, Abby surfaced about 15 feet away with a flapping duck in her mouth and the blind erupted. She was two.
Abby and I have traveled all over North America chasing fowl. All over Texas, Louisiana, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Missouri, South Dakota and all over the province of Saskatchewan. She was as constant in a field of cut barley as she was in the Gulf Coast marsh or the pheasant-filled corn fields of South Dakota. She's been sneaked into more hotels, and at least one casino, than I'd like to admit. She shared my bed, the bed of my buddies and basically wherever Abby wanted to sleep. When one of my buddies suggested she sleep in the truck, me and the others suggested he pick up his own birds....he relented and shared his bed with Abby that night. I always tipped the maid staff good at the hotels where Abby slept because she shed like a banshee.
Waterfowling is a young man's game and about the time I turned 40, Abby and I both slowed down a bit. We still have a great lease and make it out a few times a year, but marsh-stomping and 40hr drives are long past us. We were fortunate to be in our prime together and we put the hurt on some ducks. Abby got old with me and arthritis and hearing loss plagued her. She semi-retired to a comfortable life with a memory foam bed and all the food she could eat. She went to the office with me, went to the lake with us every weekend and loved her some air-condition. She and I spent every night on the back porch, after Jen and the girls went to bed, me reading and she snoring or pushing my hand up with her head for me to pet her. She was a retired legend in our house and given a place of reverence, even with my wife and girls.
I knew the end was near, so Abby and I stayed up until 2am this morning. There was no reading, I just pet her, washed her up with the hose which she always loved, and talked to her like an old friend. It would look foolish to anyone watching, but it felt **** right to me. I woke up this morning knowing what I'd find...I just knew. I called my office to let them know I'd be late because I had to dig a grave for my best friend. Within 30 minutes, my buddy at the office had called one of our rental companies and they delivered a mini-excavator to my house...I don't get equipment to jobsites that fast. My BIL and best hunting buddy showed up with tears in his eyes and Abby stories on his mind. I've gotten texts from hunting partners, old and recent, this morning and they all said the same thing...."what a helluva dog". It makes me proud to know that others saw what I saw. She was loved by many.
I don't know if there are dogs in heaven, but if there are God got a great duck dog this morning. I'm sure God never misses a passing shot, so Abby won't have to give that trademark sideways glance that says, "you do your job and I'll do mine". RIP Abby-girl. You were the best of them all and you will be truly missed. Until we meet again.....
I got Abby as a puppy in 2005 from a breeder in Gilmer, TX. I was looking for a particular line out of a dog named Downtown Dusty Brown. He was the recent Purina Gun Dog of the Year and he sired some good pups. I brought home a beautiful black pup that never left my side. She quickly became a great family pet as Jen and I had four daughters, the youngest were 1 year old twins. Abby grew up with our kids and loved them as much as they loved her. But I didn't get Abby to be a "pet", I got Abby to get ducks.
I sent her off to a buddy of mine for training and very early on he called to tell me that Abby was different from the other dogs he was training...more drive, more trainability, more determination. She took correction well and progressed quickly. He talked me into letting him run her in field trials and Abby got her senior title without a fail. Not a big deal, but I've no doubts that Abby could have done anything and never advancing past Senior was my call. She didn't need trophies and ribbons...she had this insatiable need to hear whistling wings and shotgun blasts.
On her first weekend of teal season in 2006, Abby picked up all 64 birds we killed over two days, and a legend among my hunting buddies was born. I've hunted over a lot of dogs, as had they, but Abby was indeed different. She did things beyond her training. I'd call her off a line and sometimes she'd ignore me....and then she'd go straight to a duck that I hadn't seen fall. She was smarter than me and worse than that, she knew it. Abby is the only dog that I've ever seen get a standing ovation from a duck blind...seriously. A duck was diving on her once and Abby just wouldn't quit. Finally as she got close the duck went under.....So did Abby. After about 3 seconds, but seemed like 30, Abby surfaced about 15 feet away with a flapping duck in her mouth and the blind erupted. She was two.
Abby and I have traveled all over North America chasing fowl. All over Texas, Louisiana, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Missouri, South Dakota and all over the province of Saskatchewan. She was as constant in a field of cut barley as she was in the Gulf Coast marsh or the pheasant-filled corn fields of South Dakota. She's been sneaked into more hotels, and at least one casino, than I'd like to admit. She shared my bed, the bed of my buddies and basically wherever Abby wanted to sleep. When one of my buddies suggested she sleep in the truck, me and the others suggested he pick up his own birds....he relented and shared his bed with Abby that night. I always tipped the maid staff good at the hotels where Abby slept because she shed like a banshee.
Waterfowling is a young man's game and about the time I turned 40, Abby and I both slowed down a bit. We still have a great lease and make it out a few times a year, but marsh-stomping and 40hr drives are long past us. We were fortunate to be in our prime together and we put the hurt on some ducks. Abby got old with me and arthritis and hearing loss plagued her. She semi-retired to a comfortable life with a memory foam bed and all the food she could eat. She went to the office with me, went to the lake with us every weekend and loved her some air-condition. She and I spent every night on the back porch, after Jen and the girls went to bed, me reading and she snoring or pushing my hand up with her head for me to pet her. She was a retired legend in our house and given a place of reverence, even with my wife and girls.
I knew the end was near, so Abby and I stayed up until 2am this morning. There was no reading, I just pet her, washed her up with the hose which she always loved, and talked to her like an old friend. It would look foolish to anyone watching, but it felt **** right to me. I woke up this morning knowing what I'd find...I just knew. I called my office to let them know I'd be late because I had to dig a grave for my best friend. Within 30 minutes, my buddy at the office had called one of our rental companies and they delivered a mini-excavator to my house...I don't get equipment to jobsites that fast. My BIL and best hunting buddy showed up with tears in his eyes and Abby stories on his mind. I've gotten texts from hunting partners, old and recent, this morning and they all said the same thing...."what a helluva dog". It makes me proud to know that others saw what I saw. She was loved by many.
I don't know if there are dogs in heaven, but if there are God got a great duck dog this morning. I'm sure God never misses a passing shot, so Abby won't have to give that trademark sideways glance that says, "you do your job and I'll do mine". RIP Abby-girl. You were the best of them all and you will be truly missed. Until we meet again.....
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