A weathered sign points down a one-lane, sand road that will take the occasional lucky visitor back in time to when English setters were kings and the noble bob white quail were the subjects.
Last week I had the good fortune to be invited to the kennel to watch some excellent training and bird dog work.
Rich Warters and Bobby Love have dogs at Bob’s facilities and use the area as a base for training for field trials. Terry Merritt is an excellent dog trainer, and he also uses Pine Kone to practice his talents.
Not too many years ago, if you grew up on a farm, you had a quail-hunting dog. It could be a setter, pointer, or any of the numerous spaniels, but residing on the property, in a major place of honor was a bird dog, or most likely two.
In the South, whole industries grew up around Mr. Bob White, with quail plantations located primarily in North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia. Rich Northerners typically owned these farms.
After The War Between the States, huge tracts of land in the depressed, reconstructed South were bought for pennies on the dollar. It was not unheard of for quail clubs owned by the cash-flush Yankees to consist of 25,000 acres or more.
Pinehurst was actually started as a gun club for the sports-minded. Quail hunters would visit during the fall and early winter to partake in the sport and enjoy the mild weather. Golf actually was a spin off of the Sandhills’ major attraction, quail hunting.
But I’m afraid I digress from my story and the reason that I was at Pine Kone Kennels. Most of you who know me recognize that I’m a born and bred retriever man. I’m a duck hunter, and my lab can take the cold and retrieve to me a duck when it’s time for her to do so.
I really don’t require her to point anything. On the other hand, after watching these bird dogs point and retrieve, I’m wondering if perhaps I’ve missed something. Terry had setters that would not only retrieve to hand but would behave like retrievers. This seemed unusual to me.
My experience with setters, and especially with pointers, was once you let them out of the dog box, you had to run like crazy to keep up. You might see a point; and if you were extremely lucky, you might shoot a bird.
Today I got to see what a real bird dog is about. While I was wandering around waiting for Rich to come and give me the grand tour, I ran into Bob Couzins from Virginia Beach, Va. It so happened that he was visiting to see if perhaps Terry, the dog trainer, might have a dog that would fit in his plans and, more importantly, his schedule.
“What’s up, Sport?” I asked Bob when I got out of my truck.
Bob had pulled up right behind me and looked as if he was lost. “Well sir, I’m looking for Terry Merritt, a bird dog trainer,” replied Bob.
In the course of our conversation I found out that Bob had traveled over 15,000 miles since early November hunting sharptails, quail, pheasants and chukkas. He had actually been everywhere from North Dakota to Texas chasing these amazing birds.
When I asked him why he pushed himself so hard, he said, “Tom, I’m a two-time cancer survivor; my tomorrows are my todays. I figure I’ve got a little while left; and while I’m here, I plan on seeing all the bird country I can. Right now I understand Terry might have a dog for sale, and that’s the reason I’m here.”
“Well, Sport,” I replied, “I can’t think of a better reason than that.”
About that time Rich drove up and directed us to the kennels where Terry was working several dogs on the basics of “come,” “stay” and “whoa.” It was fascinating to watch the way he moved the different animals through the tests. He told me that every dog has a special personality; and during training, you have to work around any peculiar quirks a puppy might have.
Terry ran the dogs through their paces, and all too soon it was time for lunch.
“All right guys,” said Rich. “Let’s grab some chow at the Eastwood Diner, and this afternoon we’ll see what these dogs can do in the field.”
For those of you who love fried chicken, you’ve got to try the Eastwood. They can’t make it like my mama (nobody can), but they come close.
During lunch, I had the pleasure of meeting a couple of other dog trainers, Mills Hodge and Mike Dutton. They are both well known throughout the area and have the reputation of being excellent bird dog handlers. We had a great lunch and a super afternoon in one of the prettiest parts of our county.
Couzins did pick out a new hunting partner, a little English setter that was aching to try out those Montana sharptails. It’s unfortunate that wild quail are so scarce in our area where they were so prevalent just a few years ago. Perhaps the experts can figure out why they’ve disappeared and what can be done to bring them back.
In the meantime, I’m going to stay close to the good ole boys at Pine Kone. Who knows, someday I might bring home to Mackie, my yellow lab, a spotted black and white friend that hails from the old country.
What a great combination, ducks in the morning, quail in the afternoon. It boggles the mind.
Bryant can be reached at 693-2505 or tom@thepilot.com
