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http://www.kansascity.com/news/columnists/cw_gusewelle/story/936175.html

Tuesday, Dec 16, 2008
Posted on Sat, Dec. 13, 2008
New litter preserves the Rufus lineage
By C.W. GUSEWELLE
The Kansas City Star
In January, it will have been 13 years since the Brittany, Rufus, a fine old bird dog and friend, went to his rest in a fence row at the farm.

More recently, in the past two years, his sons Pete and Bear joined him there, where a volunteer wild rose has sprouted between the stones of the cairn that marks the place.

Bear�s son, Cyrus � grandson of Rufus � will be 10 in June. He was born to a friend�s fine female, Maggie, while we were away fishing in Alaska. I�m astonished to think how quickly so much time has fled.

Occasionally, I�ve gotten shrill letters from readers of the column, saying it�s wrong of me to perpetuate the Rufus line when there already are too many dogs in the world.

That�s arrant nonsense.

It�s like saying there are too many children in the world, when the truth is that what there are too many of are unwanted, abused, neglected, hungry, uneducated and sick children � ones with no hope of reasonable and productive lives.

It isn�t that there are too many dogs � just too many accidental ones, homeless, unfed and uncared-for.

So those occasional meddlesome letters go into the trash at warp speed. Anyone out there with nothing better to think about than the reproductive activities of my dogs would do well to find some useful volunteer work to keep them occupied.

Having said that, I�m pleased to report the Rufus line is not yet at an end.

Cyrus, going on toward 70 in dog years, is a new papa. I know there are some who would think it an unbecoming age for fatherhood. But that�s far from a record. Strom Thurmond sired his last child at age 73, and it�s reported that a farmer in India produced an heir � his 21st � when he was 90.

Cyrus� partner in this enterprise was a lovely orange-and-white Brittany named Ellie May Run. The four pups that resulted, two males, two females, were born Nov. 20, and all have their father�s liver-and-white coloring.

One male, kept by Ellie�s owner, will be honored with the name Rufus Bear. The other, Jack Cannon, will live in Leawood. One female, not yet named, will go to a farm family in Valley Falls, Kan., where the father and three daughters all are hunters and all devoted to Brittanys.

The other little gal will go with longtime friends of ours to their new home in Georgia, and will do her best to fill the hole in their hearts left by the loss of Maureen, who was Cyrus� sister.

Cyrus, meantime, will be my last bird dog. We�re seniors, both of us, though he�s the fitter one. I�ll give him what outings I can in the couple of seasons of tromping frosty meadows that are likely to remain to us.

With any luck, he and I will be able to spend a bit of time afield watching young Rufus Bear as he learns his trade. And if kinship is any guide, he�ll be a quick study. For his parents both have been outstanding in the field.

After that, I expect, Cyrus and I will spend our autumns mostly on rug and chair, with cats and the beagle, Buddy, for company.

And there�s no sadness at all in that. The sharp November and December days under pale end-of-year skies, and the sudden racket of a covey rising � those have been dependable features of all of Cyrus� life and half of mine.

We�ll have memories enough to see us through

I got my first Brittany this year, though she is four years old. Turning out to be quite a dog, with little formal training.

Thanks for sharing.

Very nice, Brittanies tend to grow on you. I now have 3 and love them all.

Yep, them Brit's do grow on you. Here is my 3 y.o. Bailey......very birdy.

"Fred" was a classic Brittany... had a fantastic "nose" and was "birdy" beyond belief.

I loved that dog who, when he saw a gun case going into the stationwagon, went absolutely CRAZY in the kennel until he was let out and allowed to get into the car.

He was my last "hunter"... after an English Setter ("Murphy"-a female & very exciting hunter), "Duke" (a big male German Short-Hair & an excellent hunter). Those three dogs handled all my bird-hunting for over 30 years... and Fred lived to be over 17 years old.

I finally had to "put him down" after he fell sick & stopped eating. The vet couldn't help him... just "old age", the vet said.

It broke my heart to pat his soft fur as the vet gave Fred the shot... and the old dog closed his sweet eyes for the last time while our gazes were still "locked" on one another.

Fred was my friend as well as a fine hunter... we had many happy hours hunting together... and he had a puppy's energy right up to his last season of hunting.

That was 20 years ago... and I still miss ol' Fred. After Fred, I stopped hunting birds... and never owned another dog. It was just too hard to lose 'em... especially ol' Fred.

The kennel sit empty and unused these days... the chain-link fence is rusty now... and the insulated, heated brick doghouse with the magnetic "door" looks as good as new, but remains unused.

Happy memories are wonderful things... especially for an old hunter in his 70's, but sometimes, they're very nostalgic, too, when the "good-old-days" pass through one's mind... and, there... in the mist... stands Fred, shivering with excitement to begin the hunt like he did those many years ago.


Strength & Honor...

Ron T.

Boy, what a story. Very well written and straight from the heart. That's what owning a dog can do. Been there before and cried like a baby when I lost a great dog.

But I went out and got another as hunting without a dog or not hunting was impossible for me at that age. Now I'm old and retired and didn't hunt this year as there just were too few birds. I think my hunting partner Buster knows something is up but when I put on my field pants he still goes crazy.....but I've just gone out to the shop to work a little.

He looks at me with eyes that seem to have a big question mark. It's not totally over for us. I'll still hunt birds till my last day.......hopefully.