My life has been blessed with really good dogs...and one great one. Shasta Sue. Best bird dog to ever hit the field, bar none! Not a Bird Dog you say? Well, technically no, she's a Blue Heeler, Australian Cattle Dog. But if you ever hunted birds with her you would be forced to agree, that pedigree or not, best bird dog on four legs. She loved to play ball as most cow dogs do I think, and fetching the ball, stick, rock or any other object became her favorite game. An obsession really. At 7 months old she followed me out into the field on opening day of dove season, and for the next 13 years I never went bird hunting without her. In her prime she was amazing. Birds were rarely ever lost no matter the obstacle, water, cactus patch, head high sunflowers, deep ravines or even a bird that just wouldn't go down and glided over 2 fence rows before disappearing from sight. She was obsessed with finding that bird and inevitably, if it was down she would come back with it. Most amazingly of all, she got to where she would signal me a dove was inbound. I guess she could hear the whistle of it's wings 3 to 4 seconds before it was visible to the rest of us, and up and away she went, like she had been shot out of a cannon. I would simply stand and aim in the direction she was running. As the bird topped the trees I was on it. At times she would catch them before they ever hit the ground. If I missed, she would turn and look at me as if to say "what else can I possibly do here?" She wouldn't honor any other dog and frankly, I just didn't press it. Folks who showed up with their high dollar dogs had to ultimately put them back in the truck, as she just wasn't going to have some interloper playing on her stage. She'd fight like a bobcat if another dog picked up a bird. She loved my little boy and protected him like a momma grizzly. She also had a little friend at one point. A stray kitten wandered up from the woods one day. I was afraid she would kill it but she took on the mother role for this tiny kitten. At night the little thing would crawl up on Shasta's back and sleep on her shoulders. Dangdest thing I ever saw. She finally gave up the ghost Christmas a year ago. My little boy and I buried her behind the house in a little Red Cedar grove. I don't believe I will ever see another like her.
