Here's to the old man covers where the trail is less steep and the path more worn by years of use
Here's to old dogs, some still here some have gone on still they have that special place in heart and mind.
Here's to the spring and fall quacking and honking each heralds a beginning one of new life one of a new season
Here's to blinds, covers and swales where passion for the hunt is talked but can not be explained for it is a part of your being
Here's to cold crisp fall days with leaves the colors only surpassed by cackling roosters or drake woodies
Here's to grouse, woodcock, and pheasant caught by the point and or flushed up high
Here's to the bay of the hound whose call echoes through your soul
Here's to friends and family some share your passion some do not but each are special in themselves..
Here's to the young who enter the hunt, eager minds working like a sponge eating up your words and ways
Here's to pups who stumble and fall that get fooled by old roosters, waterfowl, and small game God I love them all from pointers, flushers, retrievers and hounds
Here's to young dogs in their prime their days of being fooled are gone they know their game.
Here's to shotguns and those who shoot may you pass the passion on.
Here's to the memories and stories told of now and then of training times and hunts
Here's to the Upland, Small game,and Waterfowl
Here's to you as I raise my glass of cheer a salute, a toast, a gesture of good will to each and all be it winter spring summer or fall