A General retired after 35 years and realized his life-long dream of buying a bird-hunting estate in South Dakota. He invited an old friend to visit for a week of pheasant-shooting. The friend was in awe of the General's bird dog, "Sarge."
The dog could point, flush and retrieve with the very best, and the friend offered to buy the dog. The General declined, saying that Sarge was the best bird dog he had ever owned and that he wouldn't part with him at any price.
A year later the same friend returned for another week of hunting, and was surprised to find the General breaking in a new dog.
"What happened to ol' "Sarge?" he asked.
"Had to shoot him," grumbled the General. "A friend came to hunt with me and couldn't remember the dog's name. He kept calling him Colonel. After that, all the dog would do was sit on his ass and bark."
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