Unfortunately I only have the one photograph of Gus and it doesn’t do much more than tell you that he was a pointer. It conveys none of the power and sheer physical presence of this outstanding animal. He was a Champion by the time I bought him from Will and I ran him in a lot of trials. Gus gave me my first win under Irish Kennel Club rules, a pheasant stake run by the Breffnei & Oriel Club in Co Monaghan. It was something special for me because his son, Innistona Spark, who I also owned was third. I actually reckoned that it should have been the other way round but the I.K.C. rules are such that a find on a pheasant will always be put before a find on a snipe.
I don’t know if you can tell from the photograph just how well Gus was built. His front legs were about the thickness of my forearm, but no mere measurement could successfully convey the power of this dog, or his brains for that matter. I used to ride my mountain bike along the coastal path from Carnalea to the Crawfordsburn Country Park, and back with the dogs running free beside me. I could go at a fair old lick until I would come to a hill. Gus’ place was on the left hand side of the bike, his head about level with the front hub. I could put him under a bit of pressure going down hill but I very seldom got a length up on him. Then I would come to a hill. Gus would sort of smile at my feeble efforts and accelerate away in front only to come back into position for another race. I think it was him getting me fit and not the other way round.
There was only one disappointment and that was in breeding. It wasn’t that he couldn’t produce pups, anybody else who brought a bitch to him was successful. It was just he couldn’t produce a pup for me. I was thankful for the assistance offered by Terry Harris and Joyce Dammerell, but it just wasn’t to be.
Maybe I should be thankful in a way because if breeding Gus had been successful I mightn’t have gone looking for Spark. But that’s a whole other story.
