Dr. Andrew F. Zoll (1916-2006)
by Brad Harter

Born in Mansfield, Ohio on
Aug. 20th, 1916, Dr. Andrew F. Zoll passed
away peacefully and in the company of his family at his residence on
July 15th. 2006. Enjoying excellent health for most of his 89 years,
Doc was the epitome of a father, bird dog man and a field trial
competitor. Throughout the sixties, seventies, even into the nineties,
Doc and his son Andy competed throughout the Midwest with their fine
string of pointers. The trial was never over until Doc had run Buddy,
Susie, Kissy or one of the other great dogs that he had both bred and
developed. Dogs were more than just a part of Doc’s life, they were his
oxygen. Not only were Doc’s dogs polished performers that could win any
place they competed, they were also adept at parlor tricks. A graduate
of the Ohio State School of Dentistry, Doc practiced for more than 45
years in the Mansfield, Ohio area. Often one or more dogs would spend
the day in the office with Doc where they were all taught to sit
quietly in the chair while he patiently cleaned their teeth. This was
long before any of us were learning of the benefits of regular dog
dental care. Maybe this was one of the reasons Doc’s dogs often out
birded all the others in a stake.
Although Doc’s beginning had been with Red setters bird hunting
during Ohio’s golden pheasant years, it would be the line of pointers
that he and young Andy would develop that would hold Doc’s infatuation
for more than 50 years. They had started with the best of bloodlines
tracing directly back to Palamonium & Wayriel Allegheny Sport.
Doc’s dogs went everywhere with him and they were at home in his
camper just as they were in the field. Once, when I entered Doc’s
camper early in the morning unannounced, I was quickly admonished and
asked to turn around while he finished dressing Buddy. He quickly
reached up to his bed, slipped Buddy’s collar on and then informed me
that everything was alright. This was pure Doc, his wild sense of humor
and the special relationship he had with his animals.
Doc was competitive in everything that he did, whether it was on the
tennis courts, fishing for walleye in Canada or Lake Erie or beating
you at a field trial. For Doc, it wasn’t just about winning but more
about just being the best that he was capable of and giving his dogs
that same opportunity.
Doc had a special compassion for people as well as animals. Once when I
was fishing with Doc and Andy in the far reaches of northern Canada, he
sensed that I was having some discomfort. I finally confessed and told
him I was bothered by a wisdom tooth that was acting up. Doc’s eyes lit
up! He shared the fact that he hadn’t done any real field dentistry
work since World War II and quickly assured me that he was a master at
extracting wisdom teeth. Fishing through his tackle box and lure making
equipment, Doc found all the tools that he would need and soon had them
boiling in a pot on the fire. A small bottle of medicinal Canadian
whiskey surfaced that Doc had kept hidden away from the rest of us. His
defense was that he had only brought the whiskey exactly for this type
of emergency. I wasn’t really in favor of this operation, but if you
knew Doc, you also knew that once he had his mind on a mission, there
really was no stopping him. With the hands of a surgeon, the same hands
that made dentures and intricate fishing lures with such amazing skill,
my troublesome wisdom tooth was out in minutes. For Doc, this was the
same kind of enjoyment he received whether pulling in a walleye or
flushing birds for his dogs. His love of life and his compassion to
make everything right in the world were the trademarks that set Doc
apart from the rest.
Doc’s support to the field trial game went almost unmatched in the
middle states region. He and Andy were always available with a string
of entries and a horse for anyone needing a mount. When a group of us
formed the Ohio Ruffed Grouse Field Trial Club, Doc was one of the
first to call us with his support. He promised to enter his dogs while
openly admitting that none of his dogs had ever seen a grouse. His word
was his promise. Doc was there at the very first trial running old
Buddy on foot through the hills of southern Ohio. The bell was all new
to Buddy but soon it went silent and Buddy was found on point. There
was no bush or typical quail cover to flush in and Doc was a little
awkward kicking leaves in the woods for his dog. Nothing flew and when
Buddy was asked to relocate, this broke, old bird finding machine would
not take a step. Doc finally went down on his hands and knees and
peered under a log only three feet in front of Buddy and not five
inches off the ground. Doc stood up quickly and exclaimed to the
judges: “just exactly what does one of these grouse look like anyway?”
One judge described the bird as mostly brown and about the size of a
chicken. Doc commented: “this was exactly what my dog has pointed and
it is sitting right there, up tight under that log.” The judges found
it hard to believe that a grouse was sitting that tight with Doc no
more than a foot from the bird when he had crawled up in front of
Buddy. They ordered Doc to flush and shoot. Doc took one lunging kick
at the log and out flew the biggest owl you could ever have imagined.
Doc quickly fired his gun and sent Buddy on, thinking he had just won
the first ever Ohio Grouse Trial. Buddy failed to win that trial but
over the years Susie, Buddy, Beau, Kissy, Jill and scores of other fine
dogs would carry the Zoll banners for both Doc & Andy, usually
sending the rest of home with only yellow ribbons at best. Doc and his
eldest son, Andy spent countless hours enjoying life and the world
around them. Doc lived with young Andy and his wife Becky these last
five years. Doc is survived by his four children; Andrew Allen, Annette
Lynn, Timothy Lee & Cynthia Christine, Andy’s wife Becky, Doc’s
former wife; Hazel, fourteen grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.
In his lifetime Doc would accomplished the ultimate goal. He
managed to leave this world a better place; for dogs, horses and people
too! May he rest in peace; flushing birds in front of his dogs with the
dying sun and pulling fighting walleyes from the deep cool waters of a
lake.