Yesterday...One of those days where things just didn't seem to get better no matter how hard I tried. Sanguine? Yes, but honestly I spent the day trying to be a 'difference maker' in higher education only to come up not making much of one. Come home to a loving family, but my primary thought was that others would be probably better off if I could be alone for a bit to decompress/recompose (blame it on being an only child).
Let it be known that taking the dogs for a walk is not always what I categorize as 'quality' alone time. The very nature of some gundogs, spaniels and setters in particular it seems, is that they always look to you for their sense of well being and direction. So if you are in a particularly 'prickly' state of mind, what Holly Golightly called the "angry reds", they might seem...annoying. Not all breeds are like that-many of the continentals I've known could care less if you were the one handling them on a leash or some stranger they'd never met before. They behave much the same either way. Not so with spaniels (spaniels would make sure a robber was shown where the treats were kept and given lots of kisses before rolling over for a belly scratch).
But I digress. I've heard this closeness best described by someone who cherishes it in their dogs: "I wouldn't have a dog that didn't follow me when I leave a room". One of my dogs eventually notices when I leave the room. The other will have followed me. Guaranteed. And I love them both.
The usual walk/exercise loop is around a 10 acre field in a park. The field is an equal mix of briar and rye; mowed by the city a few times a year so it's never really overgrown.
With the upcoming hunt tests I decided to take a more circuitous route through the field than I normally do, thinking I could at least give Emmie a chance to work on her pattern. 100 yards into the field she got 'birdy'. Based on passed experience I'm thinking it must be deer poop that has her so animated, because this area is generally all but bereft of other game-but I should know how to read her signs better by now because she was working on real scent.
Low and behold:
whiiiirrrllllss up from the grass. Rising nearly12' into the air before heading to the safety of the privet hedge encircling the field. I was being presented a chip shot as it reached it's apex-especially compared to the three flushes I fought both briar and brush to see just a few weeks ago.
But the season's over.
No gun.
It's a public park.
Nevertheless, there was a smile on my face. And there was much loving-up on Emmie for finding probably the only real gamebird in the whole county.
A bad day was reclaimed thanks to a 4 oz bird and a 38# dog.
Let it be known that taking the dogs for a walk is not always what I categorize as 'quality' alone time. The very nature of some gundogs, spaniels and setters in particular it seems, is that they always look to you for their sense of well being and direction. So if you are in a particularly 'prickly' state of mind, what Holly Golightly called the "angry reds", they might seem...annoying. Not all breeds are like that-many of the continentals I've known could care less if you were the one handling them on a leash or some stranger they'd never met before. They behave much the same either way. Not so with spaniels (spaniels would make sure a robber was shown where the treats were kept and given lots of kisses before rolling over for a belly scratch).
But I digress. I've heard this closeness best described by someone who cherishes it in their dogs: "I wouldn't have a dog that didn't follow me when I leave a room". One of my dogs eventually notices when I leave the room. The other will have followed me. Guaranteed. And I love them both.
The usual walk/exercise loop is around a 10 acre field in a park. The field is an equal mix of briar and rye; mowed by the city a few times a year so it's never really overgrown.
With the upcoming hunt tests I decided to take a more circuitous route through the field than I normally do, thinking I could at least give Emmie a chance to work on her pattern. 100 yards into the field she got 'birdy'. Based on passed experience I'm thinking it must be deer poop that has her so animated, because this area is generally all but bereft of other game-but I should know how to read her signs better by now because she was working on real scent.
Low and behold:
But the season's over.
No gun.
It's a public park.
Nevertheless, there was a smile on my face. And there was much loving-up on Emmie for finding probably the only real gamebird in the whole county.
A bad day was reclaimed thanks to a 4 oz bird and a 38# dog.
Works every time.
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