When I was 12, My Dad let me pick a pup for myself out of a litter of English Pointers that his dog had.
I picked a big white male with a liver head and one big liver spot on his rump. I named him Spot. That dog went with me everywhere I went. He was super mellow and smart. I've never met another English Pointer with his temperament. That dog taught me how to hunt birds. I made so many mistakes with him and it didn't matter. He was just a great hunter and he put up with all my adolescent BS.
Spot lived to the ripe age of 16. I've had more talented dogs, I've had more flashy dogs, but I've never had such a perfect fit of where I was in life and what the dog was, than Spot.
