The best hunting dog I ever had was a small Brittany Spaniel, she was an outstanding hunter. Her breed could hypnotize a pheasant the way Fox can. The pheasants did not fly until she made them take off. Once I walked up she had a hen pheasant about a foot in front of her nose. It blinked its eyes at me then looked at the dog, but it did not move. Hen pheasants stay put a lot better than Roosters. Sam would stay on point. I walked up and made the pheasant fly one time. Sam grabbed it as soon as it took off the same way a Fox would do. I took the pheasant from her and turned it loose, that poor dog looked at me with a puzzled expression on her face, her head cocked to the side, like what did you do that for? Sam always rode up on the back of the seat right behind my head in the pickup. That was her favorite spot to ride, she could see out the back window or the front, it gave me a warm headrest also. You could take a lunch break if you wanted, she would point until you got back.
She only had one litter of pups, but it was huge. She had a baby every hour for 10 hours. Those ten pups were draining her energy. Feeding that many babies got to be too much, I bought milk replacer and helped feed them. A friend of mine got one of those pups, it turned out to be a good hunting dog for him for many years.
There was a pasture across the road from our place. A trapper set traps out there every year. One day I saw Sam out in the pasture by herself, she wasn’t moving. I walked over there she was laying there with a trap on a front foot. She had a look on her face like “look what I have done” she didn’t fight or try to get loose as a wild animal would do. She was just lying there waiting for me and let me get her foot out of the trap. We walked home with her limping all the way. From that day on, anytime we were out hunting she would smell a fox trap and slowly back away from the area, exactly the way a fox would do. They know where the trap is at by smell.
Sam loved to eat field mice fox also have a diet of field mice. They must be tasty little critters. One day my son-in-law Gaylord and I had been hunting all afternoon. Sam was doing her usual good job of hunting for us. I notice she was filling up on field mice, half the time the mice must have gone down her throat still alive. She just loved them, couldn’t get enough. After hunting all afternoon we were driving home, Sam wasn’t on the back of the seat behind my head likes usually rides she was between us. I could tell she didn’t 0feel good. We were almost home, Sam jumped up, let out a few loud burps and then regurgitated half a gallon of field mice onto my son-in-law’s lap. I stopped the pickup quick Gaylord bailed out leaving a trail of mice parts all the way to the road ditch. I think he also lost his lunch.
We lived about 30 yards (ca. 27 m) away from busy County highway with traffic going past 60 to 70 miles (112.65 km) an hour. One morning I looked out as a neighbor was going past. He was going very slow Sam was coming across the road. He ran over her right on the center line and didn’t even stop. I quickly ran out there, picked Sam up and cried all the way back to the house. She died while I was carrying her, that was a horrible day.