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The Source

There’s a gorgeous but reviled magpie out the window scarfing up birdseed. A Eurasian dove just landed 5 yards away. Peat and Angus are snoozing after today’s opener, dreaming of getting skunked because their idiotic “master” took them to a parched desert landscape to look, duh, in vain, for the first chukar of the season. Crucified arrowleaf balsamroot made me wish I’d installed earplugs before heading out. It doesn’t matter. Robins, blackbirds, more doves, some house finches, a Say’s Phoebe. Leslie has the tummy flu, my Camelback bladder leaked all over the back of the rig, I threw a tantrum, spoiling the excitement and the anticipation. Everything’s relative. Maybe not as bad as a few years ago when we thought we’d “show ’em” by camping in the boat and getting a jump on everyone, only to discover they drop the reservoir level at night, causing us to unload the whole vessel at 3 a.m. so we could get it back on water (this after relocating to a spot that wasn’t occupied by a sow black bear and her two cubs); we woke to the realization I’d forgotten to pack the stove so we could make coffee. Cold water coffee doesn’t begin to approach the “cowboy” style. We love sleeping with our dogs. I wouldn’t have it any other way. It takes a toll on them and us, but it’s worth it, I think.

It started out nice
The source taking a break
Dry as a bone

Peat met his dad the other day. Angus met his birth facilitators. We’d finally found time to visit Gabe and Katie Mouritsen of Sunburst Brittanys with our two dogs they produced.

It’s weird to think about the process. You can’t conceive of it in human terms without thinking of kidnapping, or the slave trade, or child trafficking, or maybe prostitution. Thank goodness we’re talking about dogs, though, and the process of purchasing a dog from a breeder is older than dirt so I’d guess it’s not something those involved question much. It works. It’s worked for us rather well. Some things might be better left unthunk.

Despite the process and its required interactions with Sunburst in obtaining our two treasures, we’d never taken the time to get to know Gabe and Katie. We swung by their new setup in New Plymouth, and they introduced us to their stock. Peat’s mom (Candy) passed in January, but his father, Sioux, was there, and so were lots of new Brittanys they’ve acquired from several places around the country. Despite working full-time, Gabe and Katie have built their program into an impressive operation with new options on pairs coming down the pike. We’re in for another some time but that brings up a painful thought of life without Angus. After all, all this is because of him. He’s the source. He’s why I’m here, we’re here. What can you do with that?

Peat meet your pops
Next generation
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