As a young pup, our Jake was a bouncy, bitey handful. Actually, he was several handsful, and all at the same time.
But we hung with him through thick and thin and thinner. And then, beginning last year, he suddenly realized
that his ol’ Dad knew lots of groovy places where he got to do fun things. All he had to do was be cooperative to earn attaboys and ear scritches and encore performances.
By May of this year, he was progressing so well that I thought he might actually, mirabile dictu, be able to earn a ribbon with a “Pass” in a doggie contest called a Hunt Test. In such a test, he has to find two live birds in the woods and fields, and retrieve them to me after they’ve been shot. He also has to fetch a dead duck from a pond and, again, deliver it to me. A "soft" mouth is expected from the dog; tooth marks or worse on the delivery are serious no-nos.
On a recent Sunday, Jake and I traveled to his first-ever Hunt Test, run in NY’s Southern Tier. Boy, has he ever come a long, long way.
 |
| August 7, 2022 |
No comments:
Post a Comment