From the Editor

I'm a bit bleary-eyed as I write this, and my hands and legs are scratched and swollen. My house is in complete disarray, and I know it will be some time before any semblance of order returns to my life. Funny thing is, I couldn't be happier, because the cause of this upset is the most recent addition to our family: The most precocious, ferocious 12-pound bundle of energy I've ever seen.

Last year I bemoaned the fact that my then-nine-year-old griffon, Auger, likely had been bred for the last time and that my wife and I had decided we weren't ready for a pup. Following that I began some serious lobbying, and this past spring it paid off when my wife agreed that we needed another dog.

As suspected, Auger wasn't used for breeding this year, so I took it as a green light to begin shopping around-the only parameter being that I wanted to stick with a versatile breed. After doing some research and speaking with several breeders, I narrowed the field to shorthairs and German wirehairs and put my name on a list for each. It was the wirehair breeder who called first. (Actually, Ron Nichols does not breed wirehairs but rather Deutsch Drahthaars-the major differences between them having to do with breed standards, breeding regulations and performance testing.)

So this past June Ron and his wife, Sherry, drove to Maine from their summer home in Nova Scotia and delivered Danno vom Flütwasser-one of 10 puppies born to their female, Ina. Four months earlier Ron had flown Ina overseas, where she had been bred to Giove di Costa Rubea in Italy. Talk about a long-distance affair!

Danno-or as we've decided to call him, "Gunnar"-is Braunschimmel (liver roan), with a mostly liver head and liver patches. He has large paws that I'm afraid he'll grow into and innocent-looking olive-colored eyes that belie his devilish nature. In the short time we've had him he has annihilated one garden (no peony or hosta is safe) and shown an odd taste for bark mulch. He also has exhibited some serious "prey drive," his MO being to lie among the leafy plants, and then, grunting like a bull alligator, charge onto the lawn in pursuit of small ankles. (A recent attack sent my oldest boy, Nick, scrambling for cover, whereupon he tripped and fell headlong into a very unforgiving boulder. The resulting gash took only two stitches, and the doctor says the scarring should be minimal.) A sign that hopefully bodes well for Gunnar's retrieving abilities is that he's taken to carrying around one of the kids' baseball bats-unless that's just a prelude to him using it . . . .

All in all, the family is adjusting well. I'm learning to live on less sleep, my wife is becoming more tolerant of chaos, and the boys are mastering the skill of scaling furniture on demand. The only member whose nose seems bent out of joint is Auger, but I'm confident he'll adjust to the new dynamics soon enough.

Now if I can just remember how to train a pointing dog . . . .


Hopefully, you're planning to attend the annual Vintage Cup, in Millbrook, New York. The event will take place from September 22 to 25 at the premier Orvis Sandanona shooting ground, an hour north of New York City. Ed Carroll has written a preview in the Game & Gun Gazette, but I can't help spilling the beans about this year's big news: an over/under championship. That's right, the Vintage Cup organizers, in the interest of being more inclusive, have acquiesced to O/U fans who've wanted to participate. This move should prove a popular one. The lone caveat is that, in keeping with the fun spirit in which the event is intended, O/Us must be game guns. This means no souped-up target models (for limitations, see p. 14) and no changing of chokes on the course.

So break out your Bosses, Berettas, Rizzinis and Guerinis and come and join the party. It should be another corker.


And on a sad note, I regret to inform you of the passing of gun sage Robert M. "Bob" Brister, who died June 14 at his home in Houston following a battle with cancer. Brister was the outdoors editor of the Houston Chronicle from 1954 to 1993, the shooting editor of Field & Stream from 1971 to 1995, and the author of such books as Shotgunning, the Art & Science; Moss, Mallards & Mules and The Golden Crescent. He was 77.

A more in-depth report on Brister's life will appear next time.

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