Salute to Sunni

There is a crispness to the air. The long, sweaty days of summer are gone. The guys have been preparing for weeks, eager in anticipation of the fall flight. We had another dry year and the millet didn't ever get a good start. A few stragglers made it and now their roots are soaking in the rising water. An old red tractor chugs as it pulls the water from the lake to the field. The new blind is built and painted dusty brown. Local willows and pinoaks have given up some of their branches to conceal the blinds and the anxious hunters inside them. The decoys have been cleaned and  restrung, and are anchored in position to mystify the first flock. Only one thing could dampen the spirits of the hunters who will occupy those homes-away-from-home in sixty days;  the racy blonde who had accompanied them to the field for the last 13 duck  seasons will not be going this year....

I nearly drove the poor people crazy. I had heard that Queenie (DU Queen of Buck Island), was pregnant. I was immediately on the phone to the Schuman's, begging for a puppy from the expected litter. My husband Craig, and six-year-old son Cody, and I were ready for a new Labrador. It had been several years since our first one passed on, and we all needed a new hunting buddy. Craig had the opportunity to hunt over Queenie once, so we knew what we would be getting in the way of quality, temperament, and down right no nonsense duck in hand retrieves.

I was determined to convince these fine people that I had to have one of Queen's yellow female pups. They and I both knew that I couldn't afford one, so I bargained to do a portrait of Queenie, if they would see it my way. From the day they were born, all twelve of them, I was as annoying as an uninvited salesperson. Sue and Glen were kind to me as I invaded their home on a far too regular basis.  Sue was spending her time as a surrogate mother to four of the pups, just to make sure they got enough to eat. She had marked their little yellow heads with green dots and she would make sure that Queen fed the little greenheads first.

From May 14 to July 2nd was all I could stand. They of course told me about the best day to bring home a puppy, the 42nd I think.  However, I think they caved-in early just to get rid of me. My husband, my son, and I arrived early on that Saturday morning. The puppies were outside in a big chain-linked fence enclosure. I had already asserted my position as "chooser of the dog". The whole bunch already knew my voice because I had been playing with all of them for weeks. I had not picked one yet, because they all looked so much alike. They were all yellow, in several shades from cream to fox-red. An amber colored young lady, with a faded green spot on her head, made her way to the fence where I stood and the love affair began. 

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