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It's my favorite time of year, walking into the barn in the dark, on a crisp fall morning. My horse knows why I am there, as he winnies in anticipation. The all too familiar ritual of preparation. A glorious sunrise of purples and reds as we drive to the meet. Mist is lying in the low spots and dew covers the grass. The vagaries of scent....will the hounds fly today to a burning scent, or have to pick along and work out the line in poor scenting conditions? The huntsman knows immediately - are the hounds "on their toes," excited and straining to be cast into the first cover? Or, do they seem to mill about, uninterested, for they already know what the day will bring. I have given up trying to predict what the gods of scent have in store for us each day, but have cultivated a deep appreciation of the pack. The Old English bloodlines date back to the 1600's. Four hundred years of Masters and Huntsmen pondering which dog to put to that keen young bitch. Mendelian genetics playing out to produce keen scenting abilities, biddability, drive and conformation for speed and endurance.They cast themselves, ignoring the yip of a young, excited puppy, and honor the cry of a proven veteran. Each successive year, we excitedly watch the young entry mature and improve, and sadly watch a favorite hound age and decline. Though such is life and such is hunting, we are richly blessed.

We find ourselves preparing for the greatest of hunting's "high holy days".....Opening Day! Boots buffed and polished to a rich, deep shine. Saddles, bridles, girths and breastplates cleaned and oiled to a luster. Meltons and Scarlets back from the cleaners, stock ties bleached a brilliant white, are starched and pressed as they await the perfect knot. Our trusty steeds, now fit and hardened by cubbing have been clipped. Bathed and brushed, the braider puts the icing on the cake. This is the day to show pride in our hunt and relish the company of friends, old and new. The excited and nervous neophyte and the experienced veteran, neither knowing the envy each holds for the other. We are members of a rare and priveleged fraternity. Friendships grow deep, for who else understands this passion and obsession called foxhunting?

I raise my stirrup cup and wish you all a memorable opening day, AVH 2009.

Kick On,

Dr. Ralph Reilly, MFH