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from Mexico Weekly Ledger Aug. 8, 1946 pg 7 cols 2 & 3

OLD RED USED TO SLEEP ON WALK IN FRONT OF PILCHER JEWELRY CO

Old Red was the late Mr. Fred Pilcher's Irish setter.

He is best remembered for his faith in people. The best possible example of Old Red's faith was the way he used to nap on the crowded sidewalk in front of Pilcher's Jewelry store on Saturday afternoons.

No matter how many people were in town, Old Red would stretch out in the middle of the walk and sleep. Lots of people would almost trip over him, but we never heard of anyone actually falling. Most people expected Old Red to be there.

As for Red, he would never move for people, except, perhaps, flop his tail up and down against the walk when some one would say hello to him. Red was friendly with everybody.

When Red was two years old, a car ran over him. Mr. Pilcher rushed him down to Dr. Paul E. Coil who saved Red by putting a silver plate in his shoulder. While Old Red limped slightly from that day on, he was as sound as a dollar.

Red was not the greatest hunting dog in the world. Of course Mr. Pilcher and a lot of Red's friends thought he was, but, actually, there were better dogs. Yet, Red was good.

Bradford Brett used to hunt Red a lot and has some fine stories about him. He tells about the time he took Old Red out east of town. Brad got his gun out of the car, loaded his gun and lit a cigarette. Old Red was whining and jumping around in the tire compartment trying to get out. Finally, Brad was ready so he lifted up the cover and grabbed Old Red as he jumped to the ground.

Red froze solid as his front two feet and one hind foot hit the cold winter earth. His other hind leg was still on the rear bumper and Brad's free hand was holding Red's rich, red neck fur.

Red was so stiff it shocked Brad. He thought something was wrong and stepped back. No, Old Red was all right. He was just...ON POINT, with one hind leg on the bumper.

Brad says he stepped in and kicked up a nice covey of quail located about ten feet in front of Red's nose. Brad says Red was a great dog.

We remember hunting Old Red. We used to drop in the store now and then and Old Red was always polite but quiet. Mr. Pilcher insisted on Red being a gentleman when indoors. Red was too, except when we came in wearing hunting clothes. That was a different story.

We'd go clomping into the store to pick up Old Red and see him comfortably snoozing under a rear show-case. We'd walk up to him. Old Red would suddenly stiffen as he caught a whiff of our clothes. Then he would leap and, for the next few minutes, he would go crazy, danced around crashing into everything trying to get a grip with his claws on the linoleum.

As Red grew older, his body couldn't keep up with his heart. In the field, Red's eyes would flash and he'd drive like the smartest young field trial puppy this side of Tennessee...as long as his legs would carry him. It used to worry us some. We knew

his heart would outlast his legs and we were afraid for him.

Red's last real hunt was just before the war. Brad Brett had him out. They had a great day but it started snowing and got tougher and tougher. Finally Old Red began to limp more than usual. He tripped a couple of times. Each time he would stagger up...but it was no good. His legs were just about done in.

Brad was watching Red and saw his old pal needed help. Brad was already carrying a heavy twelve gauge pump gun, plenty of extra shells and some bagged birds, but he picked up Old Red.

It was about a mile to the car. It was snowing and slippery. Brad got Red there all right but it was tough going. Besides, Old Red was licking his face all the way.

Old Red died in 1943.