Bill Glendening calls his 2-year-old male pointer Diesel. The dog is so named, says Glendening, because Diesel can run all day.

On opening day of quail season in the brush country of Dimmit County, Glendening prepared to cast Diesel.

The dog shivered with excitement, and I flashed on a big diesel 18-wheeler sitting in the parking lot of an interstate diner. The engine is running with that characteristic clatter that vibrates everything in proximity, including the truck.

The muscular pointer has a no-nonsense face with a permanent glare of pugnacious intensity. He looks like Edward G. Robinson in a bird-dog suit.

“OK,” says Glendening, as he taps the dog to release him.

Diesel is off the line with a muscle-car blur, more screaming Corvette than grumbling diesel. If he had tires instead of feet, they’d be smoking. Diesel is barely street legal.

Into the breeze

It’s a long and narrow field, planted in a mix of wildlife fodder that’s as good for quail as for white-tailed deer. We started on the downwind end, aiming our quail-seeking canine missile into the breeze.

Rambling with a youthful enthusiasm, Diesel zigs and zags from one side of the field to the next. It takes him less than three minutes to work two-thirds of the five-acre rectangle. Then he slams on the brakes and goes from full speed ahead to a dead stop. The conversion takes a fraction of a second.

If Diesel wasn’t vibrating with excitement, the dog could be carved from granite. Walking three abreast, shotguns ready, Jon Sloan of Austin, Mike Leggett of Burnet and I walked right past Diesel’s nose.

Though we knew what was coming, the 15 bobwhites that rose in a flurry of wings almost got away unscathed. Only two birds fell to our shotgun salute.

The remainder of the covey never hesitated. They flew straight into the dense brush that ringed Glendening’s food plot. Forget about Survivor Guatemala.

South Texas survivors

South Texas quail were brush country survivors long before reality television became a low-budget gleam in a media mogul’s eye.

Opening morning of quail season produced 12 coveys but only 15 birds in the bag, well below the two-bird average that three competent quail hunters should harvest from a covey of bobs.

We flushed multiple coveys in spots so brushy that a shot was never fired. Even birds in the wide-open fields seemed to run from the dogs and flush at the edge of shotgun range, immediately heading for brushy sanctuaries.

According to Texas Parks and Wildlife surveys, this is not a good season for South Texas quail.

The vaunted brush country, best known for incredible numbers of big white-tailed deer, is a roller-coaster ride for bobwhites.

For details on South Texas quail hunting, call 210-288-1558 or 512-517-0529.