Sampler: Noun - A piece of embroidery worked in various stitches as a specimen of skill, typically containing the alphabet and some mottoes; a representative collection or example of something.

Some years ago, during the late season of pheasant hunting here in Pennsylvania, I thought I’d drive to one of the game lands to be stocked, which was located north of Danville. I’d gone on line to print a map and found the expansive lands with no problem. The place had multiple parking areas and I’d chosen one with no vehicles.

If I hadn’t gone, I would have missed out on a day that remains so special in my memories. I encountered a young man, Matt Hazen, home on leave from military service. He was in the area to visit his wife’s family; and it was the one day he’d be able to get out in the field and hunt.

He’d already been out for an hour or two with no pheasant sightings. My dog Josey Wales and I had bagged a pheasant. We’d just arrived back at my truck, and Matt had just driven into the parking area. I put my shotgun and the pheasant away in my truck, and asked Matt if he’d like to hunt using my dog. We had a glorious afternoon – cooperative birds, great dog work and a new friend, all in a couple hours.

Last week, after repeated encouragement from my friend Mike Germann, I ventured to SGL 2499, near Newville. Mike lives in Maryland and loves to pheasant hunt in Pennsylvania; I’ve trained three of his dogs – the English Setters Lorelai and Harry (Lorelai’s son), and an Irish Setter named Margaux. All three dogs are Grand Champions in the show ring and master hunters in the field. I also brought three dogs, all German shorthaired pointers – Jamie, Homer and Viv. One of Mike’s daughters, Louisa, came along to take photos and share the day with her dad.

We started with Harry and Jamie, walking a hilly area for about an hour. We went back to our vehicles, moved to another parking area and switched to Lorelai and Homer, walked another hour or so; still no birds. Still, the time was spent enjoying the sunny fall day, gorgeous fall foliage and varied conversations.

Thinking the day was going to be a bust for getting pheasants, we turned to our B team, Margaux and Viv. Both, once trained to ribbon-earning precision, have reverted to doing whatever they want. As Margaux, way too far out in front, busted a pheasant, and Viv dallied in the field eating deer poop, I began to do a mock circus announcement, “Ladies and Gentlemen, may I direct your attention to the center ring……..”

But later I spotted Viv, locked up on point in switchgrass. I called Mike over – he’s a much better shot than I am. I flushed the bird and we both shot; Mike said I got it. (He’s very kind, that Mike.). Later Margaux redeemed herself, staunchly pointing along with Viv, and we got that bird too.

Back at the vehicles, we debated what to do next. Go back to one of the first two areas? Or try this same area again? We both admitted we were tired; and decided to run Lorelai and Jamie back over the same ground, mainly because it was the flattest, easiest walking. And what a show those two dogs gave us!

Lorelai was first to point, and I warned Jamie into honoring (standing and watching) her bird work. First Mike, then I, kicked around, no bird. Mike gave Lorelai the OK to relocated and she literally tiptoed cautiously in several tight loops before morphing into a tight point. The bird seemingly turbo-charged into a dot but Mike got it. Lorelai launched for the retrieve – but the bird was way out there, somewhere over a tree-lined width of briars. Then, there she was, quicker than we expected, proudly returning with the bird.

Both dogs were released and disappeared out of sight. When we found them again, Lorelai was pointing with Jamie honoring. I had a better angle for that shot but that bird also presented a long retrieve, and I thought I’d heard it plop down in water. We let Jamie go for that retrieve. After a while I heard him splash and figured he’d found it. I was right – soon he appeared with the soaked pheasant.

By the way, it was Mike’s birthday. I don’t know a finer way to celebrate; neither did the dogs. The day was like an addition to a sampler, bits of color and words added to a larger piece of needlework. The piece is fast becoming a work of art, full of birds, dogs and people from great days afield.