Do we owe it to our quarry to take a dog?
When I was in my late teens I was an enthusiastic rough shooter, but I was also a dogless Gun. My principal quarry species were woodpigeons and the occasional rabbit, the latter usually shot sitting after a careful stalk. I would have liked a dog, but I didn’t really think I needed one until I shot my first pheasant. Bagging a pheasant was a huge prize, but though my pheasant dropped smartly to my shot, it was clearly a runner and it had fallen in a jungle of brambles.
More than half a century later, I can still recall my panic. I desperately needed a dog, but as I hadn’t got one there was nothing else to do but to
