A shooting season that leaves no vivid memories must be abnormally humdrum. Although this last one was, for me, sadly curtailed, it produced four pheasants that will linger in my mind’s eye.
The first was a hen on a dry, sunny day in late October when I was hunting a kale field with black labrador Rhuna, nearly 14, and golden retriever Lulu, not yet three. Lulu’s exotic Kennel Club name is Holway Sonata, but her arrival in the Atkinson family who bred her coincided with a Eurovision Song won by a beautiful blonde called Lulu. Therefore Sonata, being both blonde and beautiful, was nicknamed Lulu. A good enough name — was it not that of Musetta’s dog in? — and much easier to use than Sonata.
