It's often said that a man only ever has one really good gun dog in
his life. I don't necessarily subscribe to that line of thought.
I've personally had several really good gundogs, including one
that's currently barking outside - young Buck. However, I do firmly
believe that a man may only have one really special gundog within his
lifetime. Why that particular dog is special is something that only
his Master will ever truly understand.

Tonight I laid to rest my special dog. My best mate & the greatest
gundog I've ever had the pleasure to know passed on & joined the
memories of his many predecessors. I hurt now more than I could ever
believe a person could, but I know that I have been blessed for 13
years as few people in life ever are.

Just over 13 years ago I paid a call on my mate Alby Mangion &
whilst there I watched him working with a pup that he had bred 3
months prior. The pup's Kennel name was 'Wayland Max' & I knew
straight away that what I was watching was something out of the
ordinary, something very special. It wasn't so much what he (the
pup) was doing but the enormous heart & desire with which he did it.
He could retrieve, even at that tender age, far better than many a
year or more older then he, could. His nose was like a magnet -
drawn inexplicably to fur & feather from further than I though
possible. And so I mentioned to Alby that I would one day love to
own such a dog, never thinking I ever would be so fortunate.

Over the next few weeks I visited often It was such a pleasure to me
just to help Alby with the young bloke. When, out of the blue, Alby
one day said he would be willing to sell the little bloke to me, I
jumped at his generous offer & that evening Max & I went home
together for the first time.

Over the past decade max & I hunted just about all manner of game
possible to us. Quail, partridge, pheasant, rabbit, hare, & even the
mighty Sambar Deer of the Victorian high county, but it was our
trips on the ducks that bought out the best in both of us. From the
rice fields & creeks of southern New South Wales to the rivers &
swamps of Victoria, if I could bring it down then there was never
any doubt that Max would deliver it gently into my waiting hand.

We also trialed together & did quite well. When the Working Gundog
Association of Australia held their inaugural retrieving trial it
was max & I that stood together at the end of the day as winners.
There were 42 entries in that trial. From Labs to Weimaraners, to
GSPs, Goldens, & most other breeds of retrieving gundogs. There was
one triple champion, as well as some that had envious trail
reputations. Max's huge heart, endless desire & dogged determination
saw him triumphant following some of the most physically trying
retrieves anyone could think of. It was a special win for the two
of us & one that can never be repeated by any other dog & handler
team. It was the first of a number of wins for us but it will always
be the one I am most proud of.

During the time I was fortunate to hunt with such a magnificent
gundog he never let me down. He never refused when asked to
retrieve, no matter how many he had already brought to bag or how
cold the water or how tough the conditions. His nose often found
birds in the field that others could not believe were there. Their
dogs had passed & said "nothing here" but Max's nose could not be
fooled. I learned early, through too many missed birds, to trust him
totally when he was working. He knew far better than I about the
scents of the fields & their secrets.

I could go on for hours about the many feats that made Max stand
out. His last retrieve after a duck came during the opening of the
2005 duck season. He worked doggedly after a wounded hard head until
finally catching up with it over 250 meters down the swamp. On
swimming back proudly with his bird, every hunter he passed clapped
& cheered his mighty effort. Most dogs would never have got anywhere
near that crafty bird & those that saw it that day knew they were
witnessing a truly gifted gundog doing what he does best. I stood
proudly as Max handed the still live bird gently over to me &
climbed back into the boat to sit wetly next to me waiting for the
next to come through.
But it was his last retrieve, a mere two weeks ago, that will always
live with me. I too max & his young son 'ned' out for a walk down to
the local swamp. Max was just along for the walk as he had slowed
down considerably by this time. I threw approx' 20 retrieves for
young Ned before the smell of a passing hare drew his attention away
from the retrieve I had sent him for. Ned had lost the mark in some
swampy water approx' 6 inches deep & covered in bush & weed. Not
wanting to loose a good dummy I thought I'd try old Max, even though
he was blind in his left eye & could not see mare than 5-10 feet out
of his 'good' right eye. When I gave him a line he never hesitated.
Although he could only amble out at a slow walking pace his huge
heart one more took him the distance & his incredible nose once
more pin pointed the dummy. For the very last time I took the bird
gently from him & gave his mighty head a loving scratch. As young
Ned ran about tying to locate the missing hare Max & I walked slowly
home together one last time.

I have read often, here on our list, of the achievements of other
Bretons. Max was no trial champion. He had no letters to his name.
Yet after 25 years of association with the Epagneul Breton breed I
have yet to meet his equal. He embodied all that a great Breton
should be. A tireless worker with a heart like a lion. He would
never stop hunting whilst I was with him & willing to allow him to
go on. He never let me down & he made me prouder than any hunter has
a right to be.

He will forever be my 'special gundog' and my best mate, and I know
that when my time eventually comes he'll be waiting patiently once
more for me, & I shall once again scratch his big, gentle head to
let him know how very much I love him.

Sleep peacefully my dear Max. You've earned it.

Bill Allen.