CZ93X62
Official forum enigma
Cutie is a nice-looking pup, Rick. I agree with Charles' assessment of Labs, they are wonderful dogs--especially with kids and grandkids.
My favorite Lab Retriever story occurred when I was 15 years old, hunting with my life-long friend Mike in Moreno Valley. Before it became Thug Central in the 1980s, it was quite rural--March AFB and the Riverside Int'l Raceway were its only "developments", otherwise it was mostly grain fields. Doves, quail, and pheasants were pretty thick throughout the area.
Mike, his black Lab Duchess, and I were working a cut barley field in the east end of the Valley one fine Saturday morning. Duchess was doing her job wonderfully, jumping single pheasants every 5-10 minutes most of the morning. Neither Mike nor I could hold our end up worth a darn--we missed unfailingly, all morning long. Duchess would start after the flying bird expecting it to drop after the shots, and........they kept flying. After several such sequences, Duchess stopped about 20 yards ahead of us--sat down--watched the bird fly out of view--and turned toward us and gave us a withering look.
Properly shamed, we continued hunting for a few minutes and approached a tall brushpile in a corner of the grain field. You never knew what would flush from these piles--quail or pheasants, and rattlesnakes loved those piles. Mike and I split up, him circling right and me circling left. Duchess slow-walked up to the brush pile, intent on something inside the pile. She moved like a cat, very slowly, then LEAPED into the pile. She emerged a few seconds later with a male pheasant in her mouth, shook it to dispatch it, then walked over to Mike and dropped it at Mike's feet. We got SERVED.
My favorite Lab Retriever story occurred when I was 15 years old, hunting with my life-long friend Mike in Moreno Valley. Before it became Thug Central in the 1980s, it was quite rural--March AFB and the Riverside Int'l Raceway were its only "developments", otherwise it was mostly grain fields. Doves, quail, and pheasants were pretty thick throughout the area.
Mike, his black Lab Duchess, and I were working a cut barley field in the east end of the Valley one fine Saturday morning. Duchess was doing her job wonderfully, jumping single pheasants every 5-10 minutes most of the morning. Neither Mike nor I could hold our end up worth a darn--we missed unfailingly, all morning long. Duchess would start after the flying bird expecting it to drop after the shots, and........they kept flying. After several such sequences, Duchess stopped about 20 yards ahead of us--sat down--watched the bird fly out of view--and turned toward us and gave us a withering look.
Properly shamed, we continued hunting for a few minutes and approached a tall brushpile in a corner of the grain field. You never knew what would flush from these piles--quail or pheasants, and rattlesnakes loved those piles. Mike and I split up, him circling right and me circling left. Duchess slow-walked up to the brush pile, intent on something inside the pile. She moved like a cat, very slowly, then LEAPED into the pile. She emerged a few seconds later with a male pheasant in her mouth, shook it to dispatch it, then walked over to Mike and dropped it at Mike's feet. We got SERVED.