gun dog

I mean, the reality of it was, I had to go out and get on a horse, and ride in, shoot the gun — how hard was that, right?

A little boy of four was moved to passionate grief at the sight of a dead dog taken from a pond.

A was an Archer, who shot at a frog; B was a Butcher, and had a great dog.

This was no strange sight to the boy by that time, but it was awkward in the circumstances, for he had neither gun nor spear.

He turned at the sound of my voice with vastly more concern than he'd betrayed under the muzzle of Piegan's gun.

The dog stood with hanging head and tail, as if ashamed he had let so many of his enemies get away unharmed.