Guest Column: Just A Dog?

Early 1960’s, Dad finally got a good one. He trained Field Trial Dogs, so growing up you didn’t get attached to them. They’d come and go. Just dogs after all. I’d help him with his hobby, when I was younger. As I got into my teens, I was in pursuit of my own adventures.

Beau, we called him; his full name was Lord Bomar. His muscles rippled when he walked, he was the epitome of the Labrador breed. He’d pick-up the laundry one piece at a time when Mom was hanging the wash. Dad was kinda heavy handed with the strap, even used it on us a couple of times. First time he did that to Beau, he grabbed his hand and broke the skin a little as if to say, just show me what to do and I’ll do it. Dad never tried to spank him again and he never lost a Field Trial.

We had him for four years, the stories are endless. One of my favorites was a goose hunt on the Flathead River up by Dixon. It was my older brother Gary, me and one of his friends, we can’t remember who. They spotted a flock on the ice, in a big back-water. We made our way down there, it had a high bank, it was quite a set-up. We emptied our guns, the geese cracked the ice as they fell. Beau had to break ice all the way out to them, and haul them up that steep bank, as some of them were pecking at his head. When he got that done, away he goes again, breaking another path to the other side and bringing back a couple more. We didn’t see them go down. Wow what a show, we were getting ready to pick-up our bounty, and away goes Lord Bomar again, half mile away was a goose on the run. What did he do, count them?

The sad part was Dad sold him to a millionaire. He had enough money to take Beau to enough Field Trials, to win the Nationals two years in a row.

When he retired, Beau spent his time eating steaks and doing stud services. Jack Love was his name, he was in Missoula and asked if we wanted to see him, we all said no.

We just hope he took him bird hunting.