out of the cattail/willow cover and into
the water. Then she continued parallel to the bank alternately
lunging and swimming. But when I looked out on the pond it was
empty and placid. The duck was gone and as Zoe went 50 to 60
yards along the bank it didn't reappear. It might dived and hung
on under water. More likely it seemed, it had disappeared behind
the spit of cattails jutting out 80 to 90 yards upshore.
But I didn't think it had gotten that far and was disappointed
when Zoe came splashing back empty. I was sure that not being
able to spot it in the open, she would run across the scent where
the duck sought cover along the bank. My faith was such that
I knew that's all it would take for Zoe to work out the problem
and deliver the goods. Now, here she was, tail flipping beads
of water, eyes an expression inquisitive, nothing in her mouth.
Alternate efforts to recover the duck would include letting the
Lab labor around on her own, hoping she'd stumbled onto the bird
or scent, staying put and by whistle blowing and arm waving direct
her to where I though the bird might have gone or hike up along
the bank to where the crip must have taken refuge and direct
Zoe to probe the cover, just as she would when told to "hunt
'em out" in the uplands. For a number of good reasons, including
saving time, her lack of handling training and a situation dictating
pure practicality, I elected to help her by hunting her.
So she walked at heal up pass the farthest point she had gone
when originally sent to retrieve and I sent her into the whip
willow and cattails along the bank and out onto the split of
cover that jutted into the water. With most dogs, animated as
Zoe is, it might have been presumed she was working scent as
she splashed and rattled through the thick wet stuff.
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But I knew better and it wasn't until she
emerged and came up on the dike trail above the pond that her
tail started gyrating at a rate that threatened to unscrew it.
Knowing she had finally hit game scent fired me up but also relax
me. If a bird couldn't fly once the hard-driving Lab got on its
case it was sure to be chalked up as a bagged bird.
She plunged down in the cover just once, came out and, nose down,
kited down the easy going provided by the trail. There was some
frantic swirling about where two trails T'd and then she raced
up the right arm of the T, swung into the thick marsh on its
south edge. Confident in her ability, when she disappeared I
stood where I was when she first hit scent, still able to hear
her smashing through the marsh cover. But in seconds she was
out of both sight and sound.
But before I could get worried, the frustrated and anguished
mallard quack sounded over the marsh. Although I'd have bet the
farm the squawk was interrupted by retriever's successful grab,
that was no time to "handle" a dog by calling her in.
If she was still in hot pursuit, whistles and shouts are nothing
but distractions. So I waited until I could hear her bulling
through the thick stuff, coming towards me, before beep-beep-beeping
on the whistle, as much to give her a location in case she got
discombobulated as do concentrating humans as to call her in.
She emerged in firm control of a struggling duck, galloped up
and characteristically flung the hen at me while skidding to
a halt in front of me. Successfully playing the role of tight
end, I caught this short pass. Her temperament being what it
is, Zoe takes time to accept only the  |
most perfunctorily praise, shrugging off the lavish
in the same manner she accepts whatever discipline is mated out.
Her being young, before dispatching the duck, I considered giving
her more practice by flinging it out into the open water and
sending her for it; a practice that assures dogs the fun's not
over the instant they hand over the duck, fires up the nonchalant,
and takes advantage of scarce birds in the hand to reinforce
retreating.
Cutting and polishing enhances a diamond's appearance and value.
But for some of us, the recognition that we've lucked into a
diamond in the rough is reward enough for one hunting season.
I'm sure Zoe concurred with my decision to set aside both effusive
praise and basic practice for another time and place. The morning
had hardly gotten underway, there was more cover to explore,
birds to be banged that would create those in field training
situations enabling sharp dogs to catch on quick and offering
opportunities for trainers to put it an edge on dullar tools.
Nor am I positive that I any longer have an ability or desire
to turn a natural born, near-outlaw into something as uniform
and precise as the patches formed by a cookie mold. There's something
extra exciting about indominantability, even went erratic behavior
scars what should be a smoothly bland performance. Potentially
great dogs have the tendency to make the trainer feel as insecure
and humble as a high-school coach discovering Michael Jordan
or Brett Favre.
Dave Duffey hails from Bowler, WI
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