The Gun Dog Issue—Vol. 130, No. 2 of the Field & Stream Journal—is out now! To get your copy, become a member of the 1871 Club.
As if I weren't already excited enough about the arrival of Fall, now I really am. Because today marks the release of the newest edition of the F&S Journal—an issue that, if I'm being honest, might be the best yet since we relaunched print in spring 2024. The theme of issue, if you haven't already noticed, is Gun Dogs. Without giving too much way (because I want the issue to feel like a surprise when you first read it), I'll share a few highlights:
The Cover
There are dozens of classic dog covers in the F&S archives. But when we eventually settled on Gun Dogs as the theme for this issue, I immediately knew which one I wanted to recreate: The leaping Lab from November 1957. We gave artist Paul Puckett a tall task in reimagining this cover—but I think he knocked it out of the park.
Squirrel-Dogging
For the story "Barking Mad," Bill Heavey traveled to Arkansas for a weekend of squirrel hunting with some friends—and a rowdy pack of curs and feists. In the story, Heavey writes: "I’ve been told that squirrel hunting with dogs is having something of a resurgence. I’m not sure how you measure that, but assuming it’s true, I can see why." Once you read this story, you'll see why, too.
DIY Upland Adventure
Typically, when a writer travels for an adventure story, we send a photographer to capture the scenes. In the case of "This Hard Land" however, we sent an illustrator. Maybe we should do that more often—because the one-two punch of T. Edward Nickens's narration with Frederick Stivers's paintings combine for a truly remarkable piece of storytelling.
Like I said, those are just a few sneak-preview highlights from the issue. You'll also find stories about good dogs (and bad dogs), fall steelhead, hall-of-fame duck calls, pythons, deer calling, and the most beautiful flintlocks you will ever see.
So, Why Do an Issue About Gun Dogs?
I’ve never owned a gun dog. (The only canines in my life were a trio of basset hounds—Maggie, Molly, and Lulu—from my childhood. They were lovable and loyal, but I don’t know if they would’ve excelled as hunters.) I suppose the next best thing to having a hunting dog of your own is reading tales about good ones. And in my 17 years at F&S, I’ve read plenty. In fact, some of the most memorable and enduring characters from many of the best stories we’ve ever published—both in print and online—have been hunting dogs.
Pritchard
The first dog I came to know at Field & Stream was Pritchard, a Boykin pup that belonged to my friend (and former boss) David DiBenedetto. Pritch and Dave were the duo behind Man’s Best Friend, a dog blog that used to run on fieldandstream.com. Even though I never met Pritch, I still felt a close bond with her through Dave’s chronicles of their journey. For example, it has been 16 years since Dave wrote this wonderful scene about one of Pritchard’s first successful training sessions, but I still remember reading it for the first time as if it were yesterday.
When we pulled Pritch out of the kennel she was on fire. She was charging after the dummy and hitting the water with a crash. When we moved to an area of the pond with some downed timber, she had no problem swimming through it and crossing over floating logs. Finally, we tossed a dummy on the other side of a small finger of land that jutted out into the pond. Without hesi-tation, Pritch made the retrieve, crossing the finger both ways, and never losing sight of the mission. When she returned with the dummy, Pritch was prancing around like a field-trial champ.
“That’s my dog!” I said.
Good dog, Pritch.
Jed
Phil Bourjaily once wrote a story for the website in which he issued a challenge to readers: Come up with a name for my new GSP pup. Hundreds of names were tossed into the hat; only one stuck: Jed.
Through Phil’s writing over the next decade-plus, I loved tracking Jed’s progress in the uplands. Then, at the end of 2023, Phil wrote about Jed’s final season.
There were plenty of birds that year, and there isn’t much a pheasant can do that will surprise an old dog. Jed still had surprises for me, though. He always hated water, so when I dropped a pheasant into a deep creek one day, I assumed I was on my own to fetch it until I heard a loud splash and then a dripping-wet Jed clambered up the vertical bank with this bird in his mouth. We stayed on a roll together that year all the way through to a limit on the last day.
Good dog, Jed.
Bear
Sometimes as an editor, you get lucky. In 2020, as we were putting together an issue of the magazine, I felt like something was missing—like an essay about an old gun dog. Problem is, those kinds of stories aren’t exactly a dime a dozen. As a shot in the dark, I reached out to Hal Herring and asked if he’d ever had a hunting dog—and, if so, did he have a story?
Hal did have a gun dog once—a black Lab named Bear. And he did have a story—one of the most beautiful, heartbreaking pieces of writing we’ve ever published.
Looking back, I can only be so very grateful that we hunted so hard that fall of his third year. As I write this, memories tumble forth like photos stored in an old shoebox: Sharptails in a bog as a small covey flew in a perfect crossing shot through an opening, the lead bird tumbling in a burst of feathers as I fired, the retrieve, a portrait for the ages—-background of frost-reddened and -yellowed willows, dark ragged spruce against a flawless cold blue sky, the sharptail’s mahoganies and whites, the iridescent blue-black head and pale eyes of the greatest friend I had ever had.
Good dog, Bear.
I could keep going, but I’ll end my reminiscing with these three. After all, there are plenty more great stories about good dogs for you to enjoy in the pages ahead.
Welcome to the Gun Dog Issue.
