Like most of my ilk, I’ve grown up with dogs. In fact, there is a picture of me as an infant lying next to Duke, one of my dad’s many Labrador retrievers. In the photo, it almost appears as though Duke has taken on the responsibility of being my protector. He’s staring right at whomever is taking the picture with a look on his face that carries a message saying, “okay, buddy... I don’t know what that thing is you’re aiming at Billy here, but that’s plenty close enough.”
Sure, over the years, we’ve always used the excuse of needing a good and effective hunting campion when we bring one of these little guys home. But in all reality, there is no better addition to a family than a well-trained Labrador. And if you are smart and responsible, you will do your due diligence to make sure he comes from a good lineage. If you are successful in this endeavor, then not only will your hunts be fruitful, but your home will be happier.
My most recent pup is number four in our household. I don’t know if he’ll be our last, but it will definitely be hard to find a better one. Just last week, we had him and a few other excellent pups, on our last pheasant hunt of the year. We hesitated to even think about going as we had just received several inches of snow. And in Nebraska, that means drifts up to several feet. Hard walking for us old farts, for sure. But sport dogs just don’t know how to take it easy.
So when I dropped a long-tailed ringneck right into the middle of what seemed like an acre of snow drifts, I almost called my Buck back. But I just couldn’t do it. Not only would it confuse the hell out of him, but I’m also not a fan of letting a shot bird go to waste. That bird died and it would be wrong to let it just freeze up. Sure, a predator of some sort would eventually find it, but that doesn’t make it right to just leave it.
I gave Buck the go-ahead and he struggled like an injured rabbit trying to hop through a gigantic bowl of waffle batter. Each hop was a struggle, and I began to wonder if even he would give up. But nope. He aims to please and he knows his mission. After what seemed like a half hour, he finally located the bird. Watching him struggle back with this huge rooster made me want to go help him. But that wouldn’t be right either now would it. He had a job that he was glad to do.
He finally made it back to me, huffing and puffing like I’ve never seen a dog do before. But boy oh boy, was that tail a-wagging! It made my day. My season! And I was reminded once again of the gift of a good pup.
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