54 NEBRASKAland • DECEMBER 2014
P
hotographs are placeholders in life, capturing moments in a way that no other visual medium
can. Sure, we can shoot a video, slow it down and display a freeze-frame of a cupping mallard
or flushing quail, but nothing beats having that special moment captured on "film" the way that a
camera can.
Last pheasant season, while hunting with Mark Vrtiska near Columbus, it was evident early
in the hunt that his dog, a Vizsla named Pinnie, was tiring quickly. Pinnie flushed several birds for us
within the first hour, but as the afternoon went on she slowed considerably more than we did.
Finally, not 200 yards from our vehicle, she lay down in the middle of a trail and refused to get
up. "She's just about done," Mark said, and we both knew that he was not just speaking about that
particular day. As Mark made his way back to Pinnie, I stayed put. This was not a moment for me, so I
photographed from afar.
He stopped above her and began to talk. Then, kneeling down, he began to pet her. Finally, when she
still refused to move, he helped her stand up and sparked enough enthusiasm that she
was able to limp her way back to her dog box.
Afterward, Mark wasn't sure what the future held for Pinnie. One more season?
One more hunt? He didn't know. What was undeniable to him was the end would be
coming soon, and I knew that even though it would be tough to swallow, I had captured
what has become one of my most memorable photographs in the field, one of a hunter
helping another back to the truck.
Jeff Kurrus
October 20, 2014
The Power of a Picture