The upland game season opener is just three weeks away, opening statewide on Sept. 12. While the upland opener isn’t quite as well attended as it once was, it still is the number one date on the calendar for dogs and dog owners. Let the fun in the field begin!

I’ve been fortunate to have owned several bird dogs over the years and enjoyed the heck out of every one of them. To me they were always the best. I knew better but so what?

For a few years I competed and judged pointing dogs in National Shoot To Retrieve trials. The NSTRA experience exposed me to hundreds of dogs and handlers and countless situations in the field, from wind and rain to extreme heat and cold. I saw good dog work and average dog work, good handlers and not so good handlers.

None of that really mattered to me, except on a scoresheet. I’ve always thought a guy or gal and his or her dog working together and getting along was really what it is all about anyway. And there’s a reason behind the saying that “every dog has its day.” It’s true. Very true.

While I was judging a trial at Savage, Mont., one brace of dogs included a young German short-haired pointer that, from what the handler and others told me, hadn’t shown much promise in the field. I was assigned to judge that dog for the 30-minute run.

The other dog in the brace, experienced and with many field trial placements to its credit, left the start line like a rocket and within seconds was pointing a quail at the far end of the field. The shorthair was blundering around, sniffing everything and seemingly uninterested in finding birds. The handler was surprisingly patient, which is exactly what the dog required.

It was only a few minutes until the shorthair hit a solid point and showed some class in doing so. Because of the terrain the handler didn’t see the dog go on point. I felt bad he missed some great dog work but signaled him to come forward. He flushed a quail and the dog held tight. Good stuff! The bird was downed over the only water in the field, a deep stock pond ringed with cattails.

Darned if that dog didn’t force his way through the cattails and into the stock pond where he went swimming to make the retrieve. After picking up the bird off the water the dog turned to swim back to shore, this time picking a small opening through the cattails. He got his front legs on the bank and then quit moving.

As the dog began to sink back in the water, tangled in a mat of downed cattails, the handler was busy removing his boots in preparation for assisting his dog out of a perilous situation. In the meantime the dog had twice sunk dangerously close to slipping completely under the water only to kick with his hindlegs and get somewhat level again.

In NSTRA trials the handler is required to remain in place to accept a dog’s retrieve. He asked me if he could move. Permission granted. As he placed his shotgun on the ground so that he could rescue his dog I told him to pick it up and take it with him. He gave me that funny “what for” look. I told him I thought his dog was actually pointing another bird. Huh?

Incredibly, that’s how it turned out. A second bird was flushed directly in front of the dog. That dog, even with a quail in its mouth and at risk of drowning, wasn’t about to bump that second bird. The handler was ecstatic. I was happy for him and his dog. Those were two of the highest scores I’d give that day and well deserved.

The dog didn’t earn a placement but his coming out party was beautiful to see. The handler left the field with a broad smile, knowing that his dog was going to be everything he hoped it would be. Great stuff!

I’ve had some moments while judging that are memorable for other reasons too. While judging a very reputable dog being handled by an extremely competitive and well known owner from Minneapolis I saw his dog bump a bird. I hollered “mark,” meaning a moving dog had caused a bird to take flight.

The handler immediately took exception to my call. I knew he didn’t see what had happened and I had to listen to him call me every name in the book and tell me how perfect his dog was and that it was impossible for his dog to miss a bird. And on, and on, and on.

Compounding the issue was that his dog was now on point, pointing the very bird that it had bumped seconds earlier. That is not a scoreable find under NSTRA rules and I told the handler the same, only to get barraged by another round of insults. Point is, even good dogs can have not so good moments. It’s still a good dog.

At the end of the trial I saw a crowd gathered around the boisterous handler and could hear what it was all about. I walked over to the group, pointed at him directly and explained to everyone within earshot what I saw in the field. Then I told him his dog behaves better than he does and walked away. I’m glad people think highly of their dogs. I think highly of mine too but I don’t expect them to be perfect.

Another memorable moment came at another Montana trial when I watched a German wire-haired pointer freeze solidly on point. It was classic stuff. Very stylish. The other dog in the field saw this too and came over to join the show. Problem was, instead of backing several yards behind the first dog, he moved in front and froze solid.

Both handlers were out of view so didn’t see what had occurred. When they got close the handler of the dog at the front moved in to flush the bird. I told him it wasn’t his dog’s bird, that it belonged to the dog still solidly on point behind his. As you can imagine, that didn’t play very well.

However, after the other handler made the flush, shot and got the retrieve I explained the situation exactly as I had witnessed it. By this time the other judge in the field had joined the discussion and confirmed that he saw the same thing. I didn’t blame the handler for thinking the bird belonged to his dog.

Maybe, just maybe, he came to the realization that another dog can be as good as his too. Or, in this case, better. It happens. Again, both were wonderful dogs. Like I mentioned, every dog has its day.