Larry Chandler in Pointing Dog Journal (1/2)
"There is something about the smell of burnt gunpowder on a fall day that conjures up all kinds of memories and visions.
I remember how, as a teenager, I kept a spent shell in my pocket so I could take a good whiff now and again and, in doing so, almost feel myself in the woods or out in the fields around home in Decatur, Alabama, that bordered Wheeler Wildlife Refuge.
My brother Gene and I often hunted quail together. He was a much better hunter than I, plus an excellent shot.
I remember always being caught off guard when a covey burst and spread out.
One time, my brother emptied his gun and downed two birds, after which he turned and looked at me and said, 'Why didn't you shoot?' I had not even got the safety off.
My brother had many mixed breeds of dogs he hunted with, and some were not too bad. But I really didn't get a taste of a great bird dog until later in life.
One year, I was commissioned by Quail Unlimited, as their National Artist, to paint a piece for their national auction banquet package.
As part of the honor, I was also invited to a celebrity quail hunt in Albany, Georgia.
The hunt was a plantation hunt and included all types of movie stars, professional race car drivers, and other sports figures and celebrities.
I had come equipped mainly with my camera and several rolls of film.
There were six to eight of us in a group on the hunt; the guys all knew my profession and willingly let me out of the wagon first to photograph the dogs on point before they flushed the quail.
This was fantastic for me; I was able to photograph some wonderful dogs in some very beautiful settings there in South Georgia.
Everyone wanted to continue to hunt especially the dogs. The way these beautiful animals sought out the birds and honored each other's point was unbelievable.
The stance of a big pointer or setter on point can only be compared to a statue, until, of course, they hold the point long enough to start trembling.
Watching this type of intensity was something to see; the fixed eyes and the unbelievable scenting ability these dogs possess is beyond me.
Even when the rain began to pour down, the dogs were still able to locate the birds. This also said a lot about the hunters; they all loved the sport so much and all agreed watching the dogs work was a major part of the hunt.
I remember the guy who owned the plantation and the dogs - everyone just called him Sonny.
When the rain got really bad and the pointers and setters were having some trouble locating the birds, Sonny had a little Brittany he called Lady that he would send in.
He'd be so tickled every time she found the dead bird first.
I have had a chance to hunt over all these breeds of dogs, each one special according to terrain and climate, each one a great bird dog.
All the dogs in this piece belong to friends of mine. The German Shorthair belonged to Bill Corley, a good friend and an excellent sportsman.
His dog was 17 years old when I used her in this painting and was still spry as a pup.
The love for the hunt that is born into these dogs can't be put into words."
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