My 13 year old Lab, Ti, and myself on a pheasant hunt last fall near Cessford. This is likely his last rooster, as his nose is all but gone. I spotted it, put him almost on top of it, then ended up pushing it to the end of the cover before i put it up. I then fired a shot and got a slow crash landing, then run back to cover. I put Ti right on the scent trail, and he was getting a bit, but not enough to get him birded up like he has for me in years previous, though this was a fresh trail with a wounded bird at the end. I pushed the bird out of the cover again, but Ti spotted it this time. The rooster had a 40 yard lead on him, and was 60 yards from the creek, with Ti being 100 yds from that same creek. Ti got his mouth on the tailfeathers just as the birs went over about a 5 ft bank into cattails. Ti followed with a thud. I handed the shotgun to my wife and started running to rescue my dog, as i was sure he was broken or drowning, by the sounds i was hearing. I got to the bank, and he was swimming right behind the rooster, with sheer determination. he got the bird in his mouth, then i grabbed scruff and drug the pair of them up onto solid ground. It isn't his nicest upland work, but i was damn proud of my old dog after it was all done and we could relax. He slept a solid day after that affair.
