Beginnings and endings, beginnings and endings—these are all most folks remember in life. You remember your first day on the job, for example—when new colleagues giggled because you wound up in the copy room instead of the conference room? You remember your last day, too, the one when you walked out the front door with a box of personal belongings and maybe a plaque commemorating your service. The majority of what happens in between the start and finish—well, that’s what gets forgotten.

Hunters with bird dogs don’t fall into that pattern because we have so many high points in our dogs’ lives. When we look back on the years and the dogs, we go through a mental highlight film. Remember that time Rowdy nailed the grouse? Or Rebel’s fi_rst bird? Or Albert’s water retrieve? The list goes on and on—mostly because that’s the way it is. I like to think of the name Fido as being a derivative of the Latin fidelis, which would mean Fido comes from fidelity. I like that, whether it’s true or not. I bet you do, too.

I wasn’t around for Bonnie’s first woodcock point, but I sure was for her last. She is a blue belton setter, maybe 45 or 50 pounds with a gorgeous dappled face and a long, wispy tail. She was the product of a disciplined Oldfield breeding program established by my friend Ed Belak. Back in the day, Ed was one of the guys whom writer and setter man Corey Ford took under his wing, and the initial genetics for Ed’s dogs came from Earl Twombly’s setter line.

I wrote a book about my Brittany named Winston and our travels together and how he pointed all of North America’s 18 major upland birds, from Alaska to Mexico. My interest in Brittanys started all the way back in the early 1950s with a dog named McGillicuddy. (I wrote about McGillicuddy in the December-January 2015 issue of Covey Rise.)

Some say a man only deserves one great dog in a lifetime and great pointing dogs do not come along often. But I believe if you start with good bloodlines on both sides of the chainlink fence, and have a kennel of high-performance dogs for half a century, the chance of hunting with great dogs comes along more often. McGillicuddy, Leo, Shoe, Winston, Winston II, Hersey, Gina, Daisy, Chantilly—they were all greatperforming gun dogs. And at present, my female Petunia out of Winston II, and her son, Gilly, and daughter, Merri-Merri, carry on the tradition.

Breeding hunting dogs requires a good deal of thought and serious consideration well in advance of the actual mating. My sole purpose as a breeder has been to have outstanding bird dogs for my own use and to enhance the quality of the breed for hunting in the big, open country of the West (certainly not for capital gains).

You’re on a perfect hunting trip with good friends. The day was clear and filled with sunshine, the temperature was crisp, and for once the winds in eastern South Dakota were calm. The bird dogs were enthusiastic and the fields were full of pheasants. Now at the end of the hunt, it’s time to relax at the lodge. Libations are poured and the day’s adventures are revisited. Cigars are offered and the gentlemanly ritual of cutting and lighting begins. A fantastic day is about to get better.

Properly preparing a premium cigar for smoking is an experience that creates a connection with the community of cigar aficionados. It is also a ritual with an important purpose. Cutting and lighting are the critical first steps that can make a real difference between a bad smoke and a great smoke.