An artist’s thoughts are often very personal in the creation of art. When another artist had me and my family in their thoughts, I wondered what will this piece of art speak to me. This painting speaks of a memory. A memory of time spent together with one I loved.
These were just a few of our precious moments…
With Burney Mountain in the background, Nellie strikes a lovely pose. She is one of my favorite models. Nellie is very co-operative and will work for dog biscuits.
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Blitz steals a stick from her mom.
Snow dog Nellie.
Redtail’s Nitro Nellie just being “Boopie”
Mary and Tom dog visiting Nellie at the Vet’s office after the snake bite. She was one sick pup, but it sure perked her up seeing us.
Our oldest son, Chris with his girl Nellie. This was their last pheasant season.
Nellie
The morning ritual, ” Hey I need some attention here!”
The big stick contest. Blitz and Nellie
Nellie in her youth at Iron Canyon Reservoir.
God got a good dog today. We are grateful for the time we had together.
These were some posts that featured Nellie.
https://theforesterartist.com/2012/09/17/nellie-in-watercolor-part-1/
https://theforesterartist.com/2012/09/23/nellie-in-watercolor-part-2/
https://theforesterartist.com/2012/10/06/nellie-in-watercolor-part-3/
https://theforesterartist.com/2012/10/08/nellie-in-watercolor-part-4/
https://theforesterartist.com/2012/11/23/nellie-in-watercolor-part-5-the-rattler/
I’ve known Bob for a long time. Bob is a Logging Supervisor or Woods Boss. His operations are a going concern. Bob is all business and his guys make logs in a hurry. When I go out and talk to his crew about log quality Bob gets nervous because I’m slowing down his operation. He isn’t the kind of man that one would think of as going around showing off a piece of art, but that is what he has done for nearly twenty years.
Bob’s landing, whackin’ and stackin’ .
Twenty years ago Bob decided he needed a dog. When he got his new dog he told me, “All of you foresters have dogs in the back of your trucks, so I decided to get one for my truck.” If you have ever seen the back of a logging boss’s truck you would know that his dog would need chemical resistant feet and armor plating. Their trucks are full of hydraulic fluid, oil, truck parts, tractor parts, chokers, cable, tools, and all manner of oily, heavy metal things bouncing around loose in the bed. So Bob’s dog was special….unique even
Meet Would, Bob’s dog.
Bob’s dog is named “Would”, not Wood even though he is wood. If you ask him why “Would”, he will say, “He would bark if he could and he would s–t if he could, therefore he is Would.” Bob recently got a new work truck and when he didn’t put Would in the truck he caught so much hell that he had to load him up again. Would has been Bob’s constant woods companion for the last twenty years. He never whines, growls or barks. He doesn’t need food or water and doesn’t mind all the stuff in the back of Bob’s truck. I think Would has mellowed over the years, even developed a fine patina. He may be the perfect logger’s dog.
The forester’s dog and the logger’s dog.
I had Blitz join Would for a group shot. The two of the got on famously. Blitz is, after all, the consummate stick dog. Fortunately, she didn’t chew on his ear. I tried to get Bob in the picture, but tough old loggers don’t always like having their pictures taken.
This painting for me is more than a picture of a beautiful rooster pheasant. It is me trying to express the essence of something in my life that is significant.
This painting has been on the board a long time. It is destined for my office. Oddly, I’ve never hung any of my art in my office. I guess it is about time.
Blitz joyfully returns with a bird.
Pheasant season ended a few weeks ago. It is a time when our dogs get to live their bliss, as Mary is so fond of putting it, living-bliss. I’ve re-blogged her post, because it is also about the dogs doing what they are born to do. They are working dogs and hunting is their work. They are happiest when they are working. What they do is written in their DNA.
Teka can’t wait for her turn. She stakes out my truck.
I suppose the same is true for me. If I was plopped down in the American West 200 years ago I think I would have been perfectly happy. Engaging in hunting with dogs, friends and family keeps me connected to my roots and more primitive self.
Teka was born to hunt birds.
Teka delivers a pheasant to her person, Doug.
Dogs are pack animals and pheasant hunting helps them live their pack experience. The difference is that we are now their pack, but the satisfaction to them is the same.
Teka relishes bringing the bird to Doug and receiving his appreciation.
If I didn’t have bird dogs I probably wouldn’t bird hunt. The pleasure they bring to it is what makes it complete. These dogs have such heart in what they do. Hunting without them would be like dancing alone.
Blitz on a water retrieve.
Procuring food is such a basic human activity. By acquiring food myself, I appreciate the meal much more. To spend the time hunting and experiencing the joy of success with my partners makes me think about what our hunter gatherer ancestors did on a daily basis. Then to have to go through the process of cleaning and preparing this food, it puts me very in touch with the reality of what was given.
Blitz is happiest while doing her work.
When I hold the pheasant in my hand that I just killed and Blitz just fetched, I experience a blend of feelings. There is joy in the success and satisfaction of providing this meal to my family. There is appreciation for the beauty and for what this creature lost, it’s life. That leaves me with some sadness, but it is the reality of life. It causes me to not take meat in the grocery store for granted.
Blitz has a lively pheasant.
The time out in the field away from the day to day activities is a welcome break to go enjoy a more primal experience. There are things all around to be noticed that add to the richness of this time spent.
Canadian Geese hiding in the grass.
This time means so much when spent with family.
My oldest son, Chris with his girl Nellie. This will be her last pheasant season.
My sons and Nellie.
This is also a time for me to remember my old loyal hunting partners from years past. The ones that gave me so many fond memories. Last year was Hawk’s last season only we didn’t know it at the time. He should have had many more pheasants to retrieve. We miss him very much. Mary posted about him a while back, Her Papa’s Eyes.
Hawk during his last pheasant season. An old hunting partner remembered.
Mary wrote this post after the hunt test a week ago. I think it complements my latest post. We have another event this weekend.
There is no greater bliss than live one’s purpose.
Our retrievers are working retrievers. They are descendants of generations of canine companions that hunt with their human counterparts. When harvesting upland game or waterfowl, a working retriever is essential. Often, game lands in an area inaccessible to the human hunter. Enter the well-trained retriever to recover dinner.
The ultimate test for a working retriever is to work in a real time hunt and retrieve dinner for its family. There is a process to test these working dogs to a standard established to determine their readiness as a hunting companion.
In these tests, the retriever’s natural abilities and trained abilities are judged.
Natural abilities: marking and memory, intelligence, attention, nose, courage, perseverance and style.
Trained abilities: steadiness, control, response to direction, and delivery.
Here are some snapshots of Tim, The Forester Artist, with the girls yesterday. It was a…
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Back to the coast today for inventory. This is the mill I went to. We are all done and headed home.
It’s a long drive and the girls are exhausted.
This just in. The sun is shining, the trees are green and the snow is fine.
Blitz signing off .
Whoop…..Whoop!
After a break from going for a ride along to the woods, the girls got to go yesterday. Up in the mountains of Western Shasta County, Blitz and Teka were in dog heaven.
Blitz would prefer to ride up front.
Western Shasta area.
Blitz loves the snow.
Blitz enjoys a fine piece of wood.
Blitz
Teka Playing in the snow
Blitz and Teka having a romp in the snow.
It’s a race.
The girls are loaded up and ready to roll.
View to the West of the Trinity Alps.
The perfect end to a perfect day. A fiery Shasta sunset.
We lost a dear canine member of our family today. Tom-dog you were loved very much. I’m reblogging this post by my wife, Mary. I don’t have anything to add to this today.
“Our animals shepherd us through certain eras of our lives. When we are ready to turn the corner and make it our own…they let us go.” Author Unknown
We knew this day was coming. The average lifespan of a retriever is 10 years. Tom-dog was 14 years, 8 months when we said good-bye today.
He came home to our youngest son many years ago and was the grand-pup of our first retriever. In the learning hands of a growing boy he was trained into an outstanding hunter and companion.
When his boy grew to manhood, left for college, got married and started his family, Tom stayed with us. In the years that have followed, this magnificent family member has been greeted by 3 rowdy grandkids that he loved dearly.
Tom-dog always loved kids. It is only fitting that Tom-dog’s grand-pup, Jake, now resides with Tom-dog’s first person and family.
Some folks are very photogenic and some, not so much. Some days are very photogenic and some days, not so much. This was one of those good days. I love a good day. I try to have a lot of them.
Like sentinels in the wind, the big turbines peer through a window in the clouds.
Magee Peak is a sleeping volcano.
The mother oak looks down at the young pines gathered about her.
Magee Peak in the distance.
With Burney Mountain in the background, Nellie strikes a lovely pose. She is one of my favorite models. Nellie is very co-operative and will work for dog biscuits.
THE FORESTER ARTIST 