My hunting buddy is gone.  It's so painfully empty here without her quiet and regal presence.  The terriers look for her each time they step out the door into the yard.   But she doesn't come to greet them.  They go and sniff her crate, but she's not there.  There's an incredible void in our world that I doubt will ever be filled.   Catcher was truly a once in a lifetime dog.   The end of an era.

Way back in '94 when Witchy was still alive and I hunted with Linda for the first time, Witchy and Waspy got into a groundhog.   Along with us that day was Linda's old lurcher Jeldie.  I watched that lurcher draw and dispatch the groundhog in the blink of an eye, and just stood there in total amazement at what I had just witnessed!   Then I said, "I've got to get me one of those!"   Two years later when Linda's imported bitch Neila was bred to Teddy Moritz's legendary Keeper, who was a Hancock dog, I was signed up for a puppy!   By that time I had hunted many, many times with Teddy, along with Keeper and Kahouna, two of the best lurchers anyone ever had the pleasure of being in the field with.  So I already knew what a valuable hunting tool a lurcher was.  I didn't get a choice as to which puppy I wanted, Linda simply said to me, "this is the one you're getting, as she has the temperament for you."  Who was I to argue, with my zero experience with lurchers?   I didn't, trusted Linda's experience, and brought home this really funky little fawn merle puppy with a partial blue eye that made her look cross-eyed.  She was a total goofball, and for the first few weeks, couldn't even control her own legs.   She'd get running so fast down the trail and then not be able to stop that she'd wipe out 2 or 3 terriers before coming to a screeching halt!   And on more than one occasion she wiped me out as well.   She finally got the hang of it, and was about as fast as greased lightning.

Catcher was slow to start, and initially I was pretty frustrated, having been used to watching the terriers turn on.   This dog was a totally different sack of potatoes.   I remember on one outing with Teddy, Andy and Michele, when the other 3 lurchers were dispatching a chuck and Catcher just wouldn't join in on the fray, expressing my frustration and disappointment with the bitch.   Teddy chastised me and told me to be patient with her, she wasn't a terrier and her hunting style was not that of a terrier.   Fortunately, I listened to and took Teddy's advice ( I would have had to be an idiot not to! ) and sure enough, the following spring, it was like the light bulb came on and Catcher drew her first groundhog.........on her own.   And she never looked back.  It was almost two years later when once again, I was out with Teddy, Andy, and John Broadhurst.   The guys were up the hedgerow quite a bit ahead of Teddy and myself with a terrier or two, and had already checked out the holes we were now walking by.   Catcher suddenly went over to a hole, and very subtly marked, as lurchers do.  I quietly tugged on Teddy's sleeve and pointed to Catcher, and said, "I'm pretty sure there's something in there".   We called the guys back, they put a terrier in, and sure enough, within a few minutes, all hell broke loose.   After we dug to the terrier and the lurchers did what they do so well, Teddy turned to me and said, "You've done a really good job with that bitch."   As long as I live I'll never forget that day........Teddy doesn't give compliments easily, and to get one from the likes of her is like dying and going to heaven!  That truly was my most memorable time in the field---ever.

Catcher taught me so much.   She might have been a sighthound, but had a nose on her that was every bit as good as Bear's.   The two of them were my locating, drawing and dispatching team.   They'd both cast out far ahead of the terriers, checking earths well before the rest of us arrived.  I can't imagine the hundreds of miles of walking those two saved me in the field.   If Bear and Catcher said no one was home, no one was home.   End of discussion.  Unlike many lurchers, when the quarry was drawn, there were no worries if one or more terriers joined in.   Catcher was completely trustworthy with any and all terriers, and would easily give over.   Early on Linda had warned me "never to trust a lurcher with the terriers", but I just knew this bitch would never, ever harm one of her terriers.   And I was right.   She lived side by side with them for over 13 years.   To watch her play with Riot was a joy........those two had some special kind of bond.  Catcher adored her terriers, and they in turn idolized her.

She was also an incredible sneak!   But that trait too is one that belongs to a lurcher.   Having been bred to be a poacher's dog for longer than we've had Jack Russells, lurchers are the kings and queens of the sneaky world.   When the gypsies needed meat for the stew pot at night, it would be the lurchers who could go out and silently poach and bring home the goods.   Oddly enough, according to Teddy, Catcher's dam Neila was bred by the gypsies.   Perhaps that's why she was such a sneak.   I remember once when she had a litter of puppies, so therefore was in the house, how she totally wiped out my dinner for that evening.   I was planning on doing chicken wings, and had them all cleaned, cut and about ready to go, sitting on the kitchen counter, covered up with wax paper and paper towels.   I had let Catcher out to potty, then let her back in again...........she really didn't seem to want to go right back in with the puppies, so I figured she could hang out for a bit.   I think I was watching something on tv, then a few minutes later went into the kitchen for something.   She had TOTALLY wiped out my chicken wings!!!   GONE!!!   Every last one!!!   Another time I was hunting in Millbrook with Carol Philhower.   We broke for lunch, and I had subs and chips on the tailgate of the truck.   All I did was literally go to the door of the truck for water, and in that 10 seconds, Catcher went from being "totally asleep" under the tailgate to dining on a yummy turkey sub!   God, I could have KILLED her!   You could watch them for a week, and as long as you were watching, the halos would be on their heads.   Turn your back for 10 seconds, and anything is fair game. 

 Winter months in Galway were great fun.  There was never any shortage of cottontail rabbits around, and they all liked to live under the barn.   Of course they drove the terriers nuts.   I can't count the times they'd take the terriers off into the woods behind the pasture and barn while I was screaming at them to come back.   Grrrr.   But when we'd get a big snowfall, I'd wait for a day until the rabbits dug out.   Then we'd all head up to the barn about mid-morning.   I'd plug up all the holes in the snow that were their entrances to safety under the barn floor, then we'd hit the brush piles behind the barn.   The terriers would go in, bolt the rabbits out, and Catcher was there waiting.   I think the record is three within 15 minutes.   It was like watching a pinball game!  We'd have the same fun time in the spring and summer months, when the terriers would go into the brush pile, flush them out into the open pasture, and then Catcher would do her thing.   There's nothing more exhilarating than watching a lurcher course a rabbit.   It's just poetry in motion.

And let's not forget the time Catcher had her litter of puppies in my truck!  I had to drag her to a terrier trial, as I knew she was close to whelping, and wouldn't leave her un-attended.   I knew something was up when I was just finishing packing up the truck after the trial, and Catcher had stuffed herself into Bear's crate!   I got her out, put her on blankets on the floor behind my seat, and we all headed back to Twila's house.  Of course we got stuck in a traffic jam on I78, and by the time we got out of the mess, Catcher started.   We all jumped off of an exit, and I helped Catcher whelp out the first puppy.   He was breech and stuck, but we got him out.   The next one was born somewhere on 209 in the Pocono's.   We got back to Twila's, I laid comatose on the couch for a bit, went to check her again, and there was a 3rd puppy.   By that time I could no longer hold my head up, so crashed until about 4:30.   Went out to the truck, opened the door, and there were puppies everywhere!!!   Under the passenger seat, one in my hunting boot.........lord, what a mess!   Now I had to get 10 terriers out of the truck to potty, most of whom were in crates above Catcher and her litter!   But, being the bitch she was, she never moved or even blinked as I pulled terriers out and put them back again.   It took me weeks and more than one bottle of Febreeze to get the smell of placenta out of my truck!!!

You tend to become spoiled when you have such a magnificent hunter and companion.   I tried keeping one of Catcher's daughters, and had put three years into bringing Looker on.   She was hunting like a dream, although it was a different hunting style than Catcher's.   Looker was a total sighthound.........didn't depend on her nose at all.   She was incredibly fast and effective in the field.   She and Catcher made an awesome team.  But, she got to the point where I couldn't completely trust her to live 24-7 with the terriers, and after the second "incident", Looker went to a pet home.   I remember complaining to Shawn O'Neil about Looker, and how disappointed I was that I couldn't trust her as I did Catcher.   And he said to me, "Karen, let's face it---Catcher is a freak.  You won't ever see a lurcher that does what she does."  And I guess he was right.   Like Revlon, dogs like Catcher come along once in a lifetime---if that.

Catcher is buried with her other terriers, and eventually, the rest of her pack will join her.   There will just never be another.  Catcher did indeed leave a legacy, and the working people out there who are hunting with her sons and daughters, including Teddy, are paying tribute to this grand old bitch every time they're in the field.   She might be gone, but she'll never, ever be forgotten.