by Pat Becker
“Hey!” Jarrod called as he approached Mike, who was lifting a flat of flowers into the back of the farm pickup.
The tall, muscular man grinned as he turned to see Jarrod. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing—except La Donna and Amy have this hunting dog that they’re trying to find a home for.” Jarrod looked down at his feet, then at the car where the pointer sat wagging his tail. “I thought Jim might take him.”
Mike looked at Jarrod, then at the unfortunate pointer. “Oh, no—unh-uh. I’m not getting involved in this deal. Jim’s got nine dogs. There’s no way.”
Jarrod smiled. “I know, but there’s something about this dog. He looks pretty awful, but he’s tough and proud—sorta like a soldier, or warrior, or somebody like that. He’s kinda like…a sad lion.”
“He’s a dog, Jarrod, an animal who costs lots of money to take care of.” Mike shook his head. “I don’t think Jim’s gonna go for it.”
Jim finished chatting with the nurseryman Lesley in the feed store. He paid his bill and walked toward the truck. The two young men leaned against the tailgate looking sheepish.
“Hi, Jarrod, how are you?” Jim set the fern he was carrying on the tailgate of the pickup. Neither of the younger men spoke, both just grinning and nodding recognition.
“What?” Jim laughed.
Jarrod spat out the words tactlessly. “Jim, they’re gonna put this dog to sleep, if you don’t take him.”
Mike rolled his eyes and said under his breath, “Oh, man! Good going Jarrod!”
“A dog? What dog?” Jim asked.
“That dog,” Mike said as he motioned and moved toward the car. Jarrod led the way. The pointer stuck his head out the window, giving Jim’s hand a slurppy lick.
“Where did you find him?” Jim asked as he appraised the dog. “He’s a German Shorthaired…a bird dog.”
“Yeah!” Jarrod said happily. “I knew you’d know that.” He introduced his two friends, and Amy related the pointer’s sad story.
“Well,” Jim said, “I don’t know. Chances are he’s gun shy. If so, he won’t hunt. And if he won’t hunt…”
“He will,” Jarrod said with a smile. “I know he will.”
“Jarrod, you don’t know that.” Mike scowled and looked at Jim.
Amy got out of the car and stood by the open door. “Mr. Williams,” she said. “I’m on my way to take him to the shelter. I can’t keep him. Jarrod and La Donna can’t keep him. You’re his only hope.”
Jim looked at Jarrod. He admired the young man’s love for animals, and he seemed to have a special communication with them.
“What do ya think, Mike?” Jim said leaning against the pickup. He studied the bird dog, whose head was out the window, his long tongue hanging from the side of his mouth.
Mike smiled and threw up his hands. He started walking back to the pickup as if to say, “I’m not taking any responsibility for this.”
Jarrod continued his pleas. “Jim, this dog’s special. I feel like I understand him. He’s got pride—like a lion. He just needs somebody to help him with his confidence, someone to give him back his courage. Let him show you what a heck of a hunter he is.”
“Well,” Jim said, “Maybe you two are kindred spirits, Jarrod. OK…on your intuition I’ll give him a chance. Put him in the truck.”
“What’re you gonna call him?” Jarrod asked loading the pointer into the pickup. “How about Lion,” he suggested.
Jim laughed. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll call him Leo…Lucky Leo.”
“Yeah, that’s perfect!” Jarrod said. “His luck is totally changing.”
Leo demonstrated a great deal of zest for quail hunting and seemed to enjoy the attention lavished upon him. He regained his health and became fit enough to hunt with the other dogs in the group.
Jim admired the big dog’s zeal and was patient with his training. After a few months Leo began to express an attitude of attachment to his new owner and the group of dogs with whom he lived and hunted. His skills were honed, and he improved with each season.
C H A P T E R
5
Pride and Courage
A YEAR OR SO LATER ON A bright winter’s day, Jim and Mike were hunting at a ranch known for its large quail population. The terrain was rugged with steep hills and deep valleys and the pastures were thick with shinnery—a scrub oak under which quail will hide.
Jim brought seven of his best dogs that day. Leo was included, an honor he earned from his consistent successes within the group. Suzy, an English Pointer-German Shorthaired crossbreed, took the lead and ranged far ahead. The dogs covered a lot of flat pasture areas and found several coveys. They worked well together, and Jim was proud of them all.
At noon, a small lunch and a little rest re-energized the group, and they continued their hunt, which took them into some of the more elevated areas. The uneven terrain made it more difficult to spot all of the dogs, but the two men finally caught up with them.
The dogs were “honoring” Suzy’s point. She was again holding a covey—this time on the ridge of a cliff overlooking a steep drop to the valley below. Another ridge stood about two hundred feet across the way. Each dog held his position, forming a jagged line toward Suzy. As if frozen in time, every pointer ‘locked–up,’ waiting for that thrilling moment when the quail would burst into the air with a shattering sound.
“Wow!” Mike whispered. “I wish I’d brought my camera. Sights like this are worth saving. I don’t think I’ve ever seen pointers honoring a point going up a steep hill this way.”
The young man continued to stare at the vision. The descending sun’s rays were now behind the group of dogs, who appeared almost shadowy. The sparse number of blackjack trees high on the side of the hill shined eerily.
“Can you get a shot, Mike?” Jim asked, somewhat concerned about their ability to see clearly.
“Oh, yeah!” Mike whispered. “Just give me the chance.”
As the two men moved up the hill, the other dogs backing Suzy were trembling in anticipation.
“I think all of us are anxious for that chance,” Jim answered, “but we could have a little problem here, Mike. If we get a couple good shots from this angle, the quail may go over the cliff, and then the dogs can’t retrieve them. We may lose our dinner. That gorge is pretty wide, and if some of the live birds fly across, it’ll be impossible to find them.”
Jim carefully scrutinized the terrain. “We’ll have to go around this group of hills,” he said, “and it’ll take too long. It’ll be getting dark soon. What do ya think?”
“Your dogs, your decision,” Mike said.
“Well,” Jim laughed, “we’ll leave it to fate. We’ve all walked a long way for this covey. I say let’s roll the dice.” He stepped toward the covey and flushed them.
Twenty-five or so tiny quail erupted. Each man hit two. A couple did fly from the cliff and disappear from view.
“OK!” Mike said and laughed. “So much for my trying to get those headed away from the edge.”
“It’s fine,” Jim replied. “We got pretty lucky with the ones we got. Nothing to sneeze at.”
The men pocketed the quail in their vests as the dogs retrieved them. As they were about to walk back to the truck and load the dogs into the trailer, Mike stopped to look across the gorge. “Wow! That sunset is something else. My gosh! I can’t believe it!”
“Yeah!” Jim said joining him. “It’s truly awesome, right?”
Jim continued staring at the thrilling scene. “Hey, wait a minute,” he said. “The sunset’s great, Mike, but what I’m also seeing is one of our dogs on the other side of that chasm.”
“Oh, no!” Mike exclaimed. “Who is it?” He could see that Jim was seriously concerned.
“I think it’s Leo,” Jim said. “Let’s count heads.”
They called each dog, and all except Leo were there.
“OK, so it’s Leo,” Jim said. “I’ll get the binoculars.”
Leaning as far
over the cliff as was safe, Jim focused on his wayward pointer. “He has a bird,” he said. “I guess he picked it up from the other hill across the valley. He’s coming down a path to the bottom. I think that we can drive around and intercept him. It’ll take him a while to start up this hill. Let’s get to the truck and trailer. The sun’s about to set. We don’t have much time.”
Leo had seen the two birds fly over the cliff as they were flushed. In his enthusiasm, the impulsive pointer had jumped over the edge following the quail. Luckily he landed on a ledge, which slanted down to a path that wound its way to the bottom of the canyon.
One of the wounded quail had managed to glide from the cliff to the adjacent hill. Leo ran across the valley floor and leaped upon a large rock on which the quail lay. He picked it up and jumped from the boulder, pausing to look ahead for the path he needed to return.
Suddenly a familiar sound stirred his senses. The coyotes had begun their evening hunt, their voices echoing across the area. In the distance clouds had formed, and thunder indicated an approaching storm. The eerie, plaintive calls of the coyotes triggered memories of that sad day when he was left to survive on his own. The horrific experience still haunted him.
He started to panic as he ran across the canyon to the hill on which he had left his friends. He still carried his bird, his gift to Jim. The sun had taken its final burst of color as it slid to the horizon. The shadows made the incline more difficult to see.
Groping the slick rocks, he clawed his way up the steep hill, slipping occasionally and falling into thorny bushes along the way. When he finally reached the ledge from which he had originally jumped, he suddenly realized that the overhang protruded so far from the top that it was impossible to climb.
It was very dark now, and the thunder seemed louder, the storm closer. The poor dog lay down, put his head between his paws, and closed his eyes. He knew that he had made a terrible mistake. He trembled with anxiety.
Jim and Mike drove through the canyon and parked at the bottom of the tall hill on the east side. They started walking, checking up and down the area with flashlights and binoculars in hand.
Looking high up the hill, Jim spotted Leo. “I see him, Mike! Let’s get him down here. Leo! Leo! Come here, boy!”
The big dog jumped to his feet as he heard Jim’s voice and excitedly ran down the hill toward him.
“Here he comes!” Jim shouted. “Dang it if he doesn’t have a bird. Look at that! Good boy, Leo.”
Jim held out his arms, and Leo ran to him. “Kind of a scrawny bird you’ve been hanging on to, you silly dog,” Jim said. “But you get an “A” for the retrieve. Yep, you’re a winner, Leo, a super addition to our group. I love your enthusiasm. We have some great seasons of quail hunting ahead of us.”
Leo rubbed his head against Jim’s chest and sighed. His fear was gone, his confidence restored. He would never again have to worry or wonder about his future.
The fully recovered Leo became a favorite hunting dog to his owners, Pat and Jim. The lucky sporting dog lived out his life both loved and honored on an estate north of Edmond, Oklahoma.
Other works by Pat Becker…
‘With her usual imaginative flair, Pat Becker brings to life this new series about a band of pet dogs and cats and their adventures in a loving home in an ideal setting. Readers of all ages will smile within when they recognize the human qualities the author has imbued in all these animals. …
The stunning color illustrations by artist Margaret Gaeddert add greatly to the character development and narrative. …’
Darl DeVault, Executive Editor
Distinctly Oklahoma Magazine
Precocious puppy Bodacious Bo appears destined for fame in the world of field-trial champions, but misfortune strikes, pushing young Bo into a harsh world far different from the life he had been groomed for.
‘A captivating read for all dog lovers…a bittersweet tale of adventure, loss and love. The illustrations are charming!’
— Marilyn King, publisher
TulsaPets Magazine & OKC Pets Magazine
Leaving behind the farm that had brought them so much suffering, Dixie and her adopted puppy embark on a journey that Dixie says will lead “to a better place…a wonderful place…Paradise.”
‘I love it! … It caught my attention from the get-go and kept it until the end.’
— Marilyn King, publisher
TulsaPets Magazine & OKC Pets Magazine
Sing Along to…
I Love Being Me
(multi-media entertainment)
Children of all ages will enjoy singing these positive lyrics and viewing these delightful illustrations. This multi-media entertainment package can be enjoyed by groups large or small, or even by a child alone.
DVD & Book
As you view the DVD, sing along to the illustrated lyrics!
A cocky, young English Pointer destined for greatness in the world of quail hunting has little tolerance or interest in others—whether human or his own dog companions. But on his way to stardom in the world of game dogs, the talented bird dog suffers a cruel setback at the hands of heartless dog thieves. The little pointer learns to care about more than himself as he tries to make sense of a new world where he is no longer in control of his fate.
Can he find his way back to the familiar world of quail hunting, caring owners, and trusty companions? Or will he wander in life, never fulfilling his destiny as a champion sports dog?
‘Pat Becker scores again with her unique insight into the feelings and emotions of dogs fighting to survive in a world controlled by people…’
— Darl DeVault, Executive Editor
Distinctly Oklahoma Magazine
Purchase at www.PatBeckerBooks.com
Pat Becker of Edmond, Oklahoma, has a career that has spanned movies, television and radio. She produced and narrated the award-winning series “The World of Dogs” for the Public Broadcasting Service. She is the author of the recently released children’s series Bandit and Company, and author of the young-adult book Bodacious Bo: The Pound Prince, which followed her first book, The Search for Paradise. She also has produced a popular sing-along, multi-media book, I Love Being Me, which is celebrated in public school in several states.
Dog ownership and its responsibility have been an ongoing project and passion for the active owner of a variety of dogs. Currently, Pat produces and hosts the lively television show “Dog Talk” on KAUT Channel 43 in Oklahoma City.
All of Pat’s books are available for purchase online at:
www.PatBeckerBooks.com
About the Book
Once a proud and independent game dog, a German Shorthaired Pointer finds himself abandoned by his owner. Surviving as best he can, the desperate sporting dog finds his way to caring people who are determined to help the unfortunate animal. But who will provide a permanent home for this pointer, whose rare hunting skills are unknown to his new human friends? Will the newly named Leo live up to his namesake and regain his pride and courage as a hunter?