Some Brittanys I Have Known

One day Uly went barging into a big cock bird. It got up with a clatter. Uly went on a few paces, then stopped in his tracks, looked back at the bird and chased it as hard as he could. That was it. He was a bird dog ever afterwards. Of course, he still had a lot to learn about field manners. He pointed with unusual intensity and became an excellent gun dog.

He was very devoted to all the members of the family. He had no tail to wag but his whole rear would wiggle in greet­ing. And he had the "smiling" habit of lifting his lip. We would say "Are you happy? Smile, DIy!" and up would go the lip while he almost shook off his hind end. But he never lost his dignity. During his old age when he had a bronchial cough I tried to make him sleep, covered, on my bed on cold nights. He would stay just long enough to be polite and then go to a place on the floor. He never liked soft beds, rugs or even bedding in his kennel. He was a bare floor guy, first and last.

He had a clownish show-off streak, too. He appeared at various times in indoor gun dog demonstrations, (pointing caged birds hidden under brush) at the University Club, the Plaza Hotel (a men's fashion show!) and Rockefeller Center. It got so that whenever he entered a building in New York City he would start pointing, birds or not, just to show off. One time I drove in from the country with some live pheasants in a covered cage on the floor of the car and DIy on the back seat. When I was stopped by red lights I noticed people staring into the rear of the car so I looked back. There was DIy standing on the seat, frozen into a point. I often wished that he would be as steady in the field!

On a shoot one time I walked over to greet an arrival just letting his three pointers out of his car. They dashed, en masse, up to DIy who gave them one long look and growled menacingly. They backed off and DIy pursued his way. Our friend was amazed. "I never knew a Brittany would be that brave," he said. "You don't know Brittanys," I answered. But I didn't add that Uly had been raised with pointers. Big dogs were old stuff to him. He was especially devoted to one pointer and they were great pals. Don't let anyone tell you that two dogs or two bitches kenneled to­gether will always fight. Sometimes, yes. But I have seen such solid friendships between two females and between dogs that they could hardly bear to be parted.