A capsule description of flat-coated retrievers might read like this: Flat-coats: You haven't seen one.

Most people, upon seeing a flat-coat for the first time, assume the dog is some kind of golden retriever-black Lab cross. In fact, they're nothing so mundane. Legend has it that in England they were the dogs of choice for gamekeepers, but despite their sporting roots, it's been in the show rings both here and abroad that the breed is best known.

Even so, flat-coats are scarcely a blip on the radar that measures the popularity of breeds like Labs and goldens, which, to hear most flat-coat owners tell it, is just fine with them. They're more than happy to sidestep the headaches that go with breeding popular, beautiful dogs.

As a child, I had a canine encyclopedia with color plates of every known breed in the U.S, and I still recall the faded paintings of flat-coated retrievers and their regal beauty. But it wasn't until 40 years later that I actually got to meet one, courtesy of Bill and Katie Kluchko of Bozeman, Montana. Bill, a shooting buddy at our local clays club (and a pretty fair hand with a side-by-side), let it slip he'd been hunting over flat-coats for 20 years.

"You mean those dogs that look like black goldens?" I asked.

He nodded, and before he knew what hit him, I'd signed him up for a hunt. A few weeks later, I rendezvoused with Bill and his wife, Katie, in the local Wal-Mart parking lot. After tossing my vest and camera gear into the back of their van, we headed off for the mountains in search of blue grouse.

Huntin' Grouse With Fanny and Doc
That was a very good year for Montana's mountain grouse. But high populations of birds don't necessarily mean easy hunting. The main hurdle is the sheer difficulty of getting to where blue grouse live. Other hunters have told me they find them in the foothills, plucking forbs in the sagebrush. That gives me reason to hope that I may actually find them there myself someday, but so far, virtually every blue grouse I've flushed has been on the top of a ridge, and the higher the better. Logging roads only get you so far. The rest of the elevation you gain the hard way, by climbing.

Flat ground: a relative rarity when hunting blue grouse.

Bill and Katie were up to the task, however. They both work out regularly and it shows. Bill looks 10 years younger than his 60 years, and Katie also looks far younger than however old she is, which, for the record, I was smart enough not to ask. On the ride up, they introduced me to Fanny and Doc, the two flat-coats with whom I was sharing the back of the van.

It's easy to see how the dogs could be confused with a black Lab-golden retriever crosss. (I should also mention that flat-coats can be liver, in which case some people might wonder if they were looking at a golden retriever-chocolate Lab cross.) They're the same size and build, although they have slimmer, less square heads. But the feathering on their legs and tails and their luxurious, shiny coats are quite similar.

Unlike most of the bird dogs I've shared cars with (including mine), the two seemed content to relax and enjoy the ride. A few minutes later we pulled up to the trailhead, and while the three of us slipped on our vests, Fanny and Doc stayed close to the car, nosing around the grass.

As it turned out, the trail gave us a reprieve for a few hundred yards before it began climbing, and I had time to watch the dogs work. It was clear neither was going to kill itself hunting unproductive cover. Katie remarked that both dogs were probably worn out from hunting the day before, and whether the two were tired or simply saving their energy I had no way of knowing, but both stayed close, trotting out ahead with an occasional glance back at the three of us.