Yesterday was my parents twenty third wedding anniversary. As a gesture of love and understanding my mom agreed to let my dad go dove hunting as long as he would return home by 6:30 pm for dinner with the family and some guests.

The shoot was at a farm south of Tunica, about 90 miles from Memphis and out in the middle of nowhere. The dove shooting picked up about 4 pm and by 4:30 it really was turning into a great hunt. About that time, my dog Shamus, a purebred Irish Terrier, who had been hunting under the tutelage of an old a seasoned veteran chocolate lab, started to chase a crippled bird due west while my dad was trying to collect some birds a bit to the east. When he ran by the last hunter in the field the bird was flying about four feet off the ground and just kept going and so did Shamus. That was the last they saw of Shamus. The group looked for him well into the evening and past dark but, he was nowhere to be seen or heard. They went to every house within three miles of the farm, eleven to be exact.

So, when darkness took over, they had to give up the hunt for Shamus. Before they left, one in the group, an old timer, 84 year old Bill Weshie, recommended that my dad leave his shirt on the ground and come back the next day and maybe the dog would be there. So, before they left, my dad took off his shirt, put a few dog biscuits on it and put out a small pail of water right where the truck had been parked and the dogs were watered earlier in the day and near the last place Shamus had been with him.

When my dad returned home from the trip with, no dog, no shirt, and three hours late for his wedding anniversary dinner, he was not well received.

At 5:30 am this morning my brother, Daniel, and dad piled into the truck and headed back to Tunica County. Daniel was equipped with a stack of "Lost Dog Posters" and my mom was at Kinko's printing up another 100, all with color pictures of old Shamus, and preparing a mass e-mail to all Humane Societies and Veterinarians in Mississippi. When Daniel and dad arrived at the farm around 7:30 am and went to the shop, which is the social center of the farm, they found no dog at the shop. They then drove back into the fields looking for Shamus and calling his name. Still no Shamus. When they turned into the Milo field where they had left the shirt and dog biscuits, from 100 yards away, they saw Shamus lying on my dads shirt. When he saw the truck, he jumped up and ran away into the Milo. When they got to the back of the field, Daniel jumped out of the truck and called his name and he came running full bore. My dad said he was not sure who was happier to see who.
It may not mean much to anyone who does'nt like dogs or to anyone at all but I feel good about it. Kind of sick of hearing about politics.
Anyway, it makes a great story thought y'all could use these days.