I grew up in the 1950s and 1960s in the shadow of Cumberland Gap. In those days, every fence row was overgrown and had a covey of quail. Hunting permission was easy to get, because people respected the land and were careful to not damage property, leave gates as they found them and generally use good manners toward the landowner. I left home in 1965, just after graduating from high school. After military service I ended up in the Texas Panhandle where I spent most of my adult life. Upon retirement, I felt my home calling and returned East, ending up in Greene County. The quail situation had changed radically. The modern farmer cleans his fence rows, and a growing population meant that a lot of the land formerly used for farming is now used for family homes. There are still a few quail around, even a small covey on my little place, but they are not in huntable numbers due to the loss of habitat. Where they might be huntable, abuse of the farmer’s hospitality has severely limited access. So I was back home, the place I had always thought of as the Happy Hunting Grounds, with no place to hunt. I was at a Ducks Unlimited banquet where one of the auction items was a quail hunt at R & D Adventures, in Limestone. I was not the high bidder, but did become acquainted with Dale Meyers who invited me to come out to a “European-style driven pheasant shoot” which he has on the fourth Saturday of every month. I joined him for the next scheduled shoot. I also brought my dog. I had owned and hunted with Labradors for almost 30 years, but now own a Weimaraner, Habersham T. Dog, also known as Habby. He had been pointing rabbits since he was a puppy, and I had been working him with a retriever trainer since he was six months old but did not have any great expectations of him as a bird dog. I did get a copy of Richard Wolter’s book Gun Dog (that’s me, your correspondence course dog trainer).  [full article]