Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Another good, good, dog goes to the happy hunting ground. Please take a moment to look.

My old blue heeler passed on this past weekend. He is the dog in my avatar.

I owe it to him to share two days from his life where he went above and beyond. He was named Peyton, named after the small town in Colorado where we got him. If you like dogs you will probably enjoy this.

The first occurred on Pikes Peak some years ago. We had hiked up the West side of the peak to watch the Pikes Peak Hillclimb race. It was a great day and an enjoyable race and many of the hikers (including us) stayed up there too long. A dark stormfront was moving in fast from the West and it became clear that things were going to get ugly. Hikers hurried down the trail as fast as they could. The young and fit ones ran. Peyton was terrified of thunder and would shiver from fear of it. For whatever reason, on that day the safety of those hikers mattered more to him than his own fears. Instead of running for the safety of the trees below timberline, the herding dog instinct in him took over and he ran back up the mountain toward the slowest stragglers on the trail, poked a nose into the back of each of their legs and urged them to move it along. Some exclaimed “He’s herding me!” Peyton wasn’t one of those herding dogs that always tried to herd everything in sight but on that day it REALLY kicked in. He ran along the entire line of hikers urging each one of them to move it along. Some of the hikers remarked that he was the smartest one of us on the trail that day … and the bravest. We all got plenty wet but it was a huge relief when the slowest hikers behind us finally reached the trees. At least then they weren’t the tallest things sticking up on the slope. Peyton brought up the rear while looking back over his shoulder

A couple of years later he distinguished himself in a very different sort of way. It was a drought year and we were trying to find some pheasants in Kansas. Hunting conditions were poor. We had seen nothing all day. In one of the sandhills areas we found some walk-in fields that were as not good but the best we were going to find. As we made our way across toward the end of a pretty big field I noticed a fella sitting on the tailgate of an older green pickup. His friend appeared to be hunting something on another nearby field with a small rifle. As we got to within maybe 100 yards Peyton put up a rooster and I shot it. The young man clapped and gave us a thumbs-up. We walked up to his tailgate and said Hi. He said that seeing me get that bird with a blue heeler just made his whole day. He told me that when he and his friend had pulled up one of those corporate hunting convoys was just then leaving. I knew exactly what type group he was talking about. You see these type convoys sometimes in Kansas – a guides camo F350 truck, a stainless steel trailer full of dogs, a few more SUV’s and pickups behind filled with guided hunters. The young man told me that one of the guides told him as he drove up, “Don’t even bother. We just covered that field with four of the best dogs in the country.” He said that discouraging message prompted him to take a break and his partner to try hunting whatever with the rifle. They had seen nothing all day, and didn’t have a dog. We talked for a few more minutes and shared another laugh about how an old ranch dog put up a rooster that four of the ‘best dogs in the country’ had somehow missed. We wished each other luck and goodbye. After another 75 yards or so Peyton put up another rooster that I shot. At that point the fella on the tailgate might have been happier than I was if that was possible.

Rest in Peace buddy. I had no idea that I would miss you so much. I know many, many of us have felt this pain.