Actually I don't even have to collect the birds. Mike does all the yelling at the dogs, chases 'em fer miles begging and pleading with 'em to give him the birds. By the time they do give him one of the pieces I've had time to sit down and eat lunch and take a little nap. Not a bad way to hunt. He even carries the birds, water, boots, everything. And people wonder why I don't keep dogs of my own........huh?

Not a desolate country at all, in fact just the opposite. These pictures are in the rolling tall grass prairie that drops off to timbered and brushy creek bottoms (yes, we do have "creeks" in Texas). Probably the most perfect habitat on earth for quail. They've got shelter in the bottoms when needed and the hills provide incredible quanities of food for them. And also the country is big enough to give the little brown birds some anonymity from the abundant predators.

P.S. I do think all of his dogs have a genetic shortcoming--they all seem to be deaf.

PP.SS. For all of y'all enjoying a white winter in New England we wish you all the best. What you see here is about the worst weather we get.......

John McCain is my war hero.