Part 3: A tribute to Troubles

This is the final installment of my story about Troubles, my first Black Lab, and my “bestest buddy,” as my wife described him. The memories I have of my time with him will stay with me until I am gone. He was truly my best friend.

On one hunt with a friend in Tutka Bay, across from Homer, the seas were running about three feet with “white capping” waves, and the winds were howling. Bill wanted a drake Harlequin to mount for his collection and had spotted a couple off in the surf several hundred yards down the beach. He took off at a near run to get within range and Troubles went with him. I was adjusting my hip bootstraps and fell hopelessly behind. Bill got in position, the birds flushed off the water and he downed them both with a single shot each.

Troubles saw both ducks fall and immediately went after the first bird. The waves were breaking over his head as he swam to his first retrieve. He brought the bird back to Bill and immediately went back out after the second. By then, Troubles had lost sight of the duck. Bill was giving him hand signals, directing him toward the bird’s location. Troubles found the floating duck and retrieved it to Bill. I watched all this while still trying to catch up to their location. Because of Troubles’ “hard mouth” retrieves, I feared he might have ruined the birds for mounting.

Two things surprised me here. First, I had never consciously used hand signals while training Troubles. I didn’t know how. Bill commented to me later that Troubles reacted like he had been raised using hand signals. Second, both Bill and I knew Troubles had a “hard mouth” and I figured he had probably ruined the birds. Bill told me that when Troubles delivered the ducks to his hand, there wasn’t a feather out of place. Troubles just sensed that he needed to be gentle with these particular birds.

As the years went by, Troubles and I hunted ducks wherever I happened to be working around Alaska. If I missed an easy shot, or even if the shot wasn’t easy and I missed, Troubles had this way of looking at me that made me feel guilty. His look conveyed the message of how much he had wanted to retrieve that bird and how uncaring of me to have deprived him of that satisfaction. Those looks usually spurred me on to greater concentration during the next several shooting opportunities.

In time, he had to learn to share me with a new wife, something he was unhappy about at first. He also spent more of his time sleeping and taking life easy. However, with the arrival of fall and duck hunting time, if Troubles saw me put on a certain coat and pick up my shotgun, he would literally be bouncing like a rubber ball ready to go after some ducks.

His last retrieve was a lucky triple I had made with a single passing shot on three Harlequins, a drake and two hens. That happened during the last hunt we made for the 1985 season. Troubles died on March 9, 1986. He was just shy of his thirteenth birthday. I cried that day.

We buried him on the hill behind our house at Kitoi Bay on Afognak Island, where he could look out over the bay and see the ducks as they went about their daily routines.

I’ve owned one other Black Lab since Troubles and might have one or two more in the future, but he will always be my first and best special friend who enriched my life more than I can begin to describe.

Sharing this story reminded me of a couple of humorous incidents between Troubles and my folks. When I returned to Alaska to job hunt, but had not yet moved my stuff, I left Troubles in the care of my folks. One day, my mother walked into her kitchen and, not noticing Troubles laying under the table, exclaimed, “I’m so hungry I could eat a raw dog.” She said Troubles immediately stood up, gave her a dirty look, and walked down the hall and away from the “implied threat.”

Another time, my father let Troubles out in the back yard. He immediately disappeared into the woods. Upon returning a few hours later, Troubles was carrying a pair of decent quality binoculars. The next day, when Troubles went out, Dad told him to bring back the binocular case!