By Slim Randles

Janice Thomas came in the Mule Barn for breakfast the other day, and sat at the counter for the first time. She usually gets one of the tables, or a booth against the wall. We were kinda flattered that she’d come sit with us, but wondered why. After all, this high school art teacher never has been one to sit down and solve the world’s problems, the way we do.

She didn’t keep us waiting long, though.

“Boys,” she said, “I have a deer pointer.”

She let the silence pounce heavily on our sweet rolls while we pondered this.

“A what?” Doc said.

“A deer pointer. You want deer, you just let ol’ Woof out and you’ll find ‘em.”

“Woof, eh?”

“Yes. He’s that new dog I got after that Lab of mine died. I’ve had Woof for about six months now. He’s half bird dog and half heeler and he points deer.”

We looked at each other and grinned. When it comes to telling stories at this particular lunch counter, the first liar doesn’t stand a chance.

“Points ‘em you say?”

“Locks right up. Steady to wing and shot.”

“This I have to see,” Dud said.

So after coffee we all went out to Janice’s place while she turned this little dog out into the wood lot. He ran here and there and then froze into a perfect field-trial point. We walked up quietly and sure enough, there was a doe standing about 40 yards away. We’d never seen anything like it.

“When I got him,” Janice explained, “he thought he’d herd deer, with that sheep dog blood he has in him. Well, the first time he tried that, some doe just kicked the puddin’ out of him. His tail didn’t work right for a week.

“So now he’s switched over to the other half of his heritage and points ‘em. He’s found that works out a lot better for him.”

She grinned. “And no … you can’t borrow him this fall.”

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