While staring out my kitchen window one morning, I watched Rudy, my resident yard rooster, come sailing through the sky to land in the orchard down below my house. I quickly finished my morning tea and grabbed my two setters to see if we could rouse Rudy from his hiding place. 

As expected, my two girls slammed beautiful points in the morning light. Of course, the place Rudy settled in was a native Montanan rose thicket. Cursing, I set forth to flush him from the brush, kicking and stomping as my annoyance grew with each broadening circle. Damn, was he holding tight this morning.

Suddenly, off to my right, I saw a small movement of branches. 

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