Tribute to Troubles: Part 2

This is part 2 of a story from my unpublished book which I wrote about my first Black Lab, Troubles. Enjoy!

Troubles was a natural retriever, so throwing and fetching sticks became a regular pastime. We soon graduated to a hard rubber ball because it went a lot farther than thrown sticks. The longer retrieves often forced him to use his nose to locate the ball in the weeds when he lost sight of how it had bounced and rolled.

Troubles was also scared of the water. Mud puddles were fun to wade in, and baths were a torture to be endured, but he shied away from any bodies of water he couldn’t immediately wade or step across. On a late summer trout fishing trip that first year, I decided he needed to learn about swimming. I put the rod down and attached his leash to his collar. I waded out about knee-deep and pulled him in, kicking and screaming.

After Troubles figured out he floated well, his dog-paddle swimming stroke instinctively kicked in and he was off. Then I couldn’t get him out of the water. My fishing was done that day, along with the two other guys I had gone with. Troubles would swim either up or down the stream to visit the guys rather than run along the stream banks, like he had done prior to my “instructions.” I thought his antics were amusing, but the other guys…well, let’s just say I never got invited back to go fishing.

While Troubles was growing up, one of his favorite games was tug-of-war. I enjoyed the activity as much as he did. Only after we had established a play routine over several months did I learn that tug-of-war was the worst thing you can do in training a retriever. Troubles had developed a “hard mouth” when retrieving. This trait would concern me later.

I planned to hunt with Troubles and started teaching him basic commands when he got old enough. We moved from the rubber ball to a retrieving dummy, and he began getting accustomed to the sound of gunfire. I hate to admit it, but he often learned what I wanted him to do despite my methods, not because of my talent as a dog trainer. Even after reading THE book on training a retriever, I often didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I marveled at how smart Troubles really was and how well he understood what I wanted him to do.

Opening day of the Maine grouse season that first fall found Troubles and me out hunting in the woods behind the small rural cabin we shared 20+ miles from town. We both saw the sitting grouse about the same time and when the bird flushed, I made one of my better shots that season. After following the flight of the bird and seeing it fold with my shot, Troubles made a “by-the-book” retrieve on the first game bird he had ever seen. Little did I suspect that this humble start would mark the beginning of a lifetime of cherished hunting memories I have about Troubles.

Over the course of our time in Maine, Troubles and I hunted many grouse and woodcock together. On several occasions after I assumed I had missed the shot, Troubles would appear from some dense brush with the bird in his mouth, dutifully retrieving to his master.

After we moved to Georgia, we continued to hunt grouse and woodcock in the mountainous, north Georgia woods. On one hunt in a dense thicket, Troubles found, “pointed,” flushed, and caught a large woodcock in flight. I observed the whole scenario, fascinated by his concentration on the bird. Troubles never really liked the “taste” of woodcock in his mouth, so after catching this bird, he put it on the ground and looked at me as if to say, “Okay, I found it, I caught it, you come pick it up.” I did.

On a couple of dove hunting trips to south Georgia, Troubles watched the shooting action from the shade beneath my pick-up truck. After having him smell a dead bird so he knew what to retrieve, he seemed to beeline straight to the doves we hadn’t found. After one hunt, he located the last three birds in a matter of seconds where my brother and I had been looking for probably 15 minutes.

It wasn’t until we returned to Alaska, though, that Troubles discovered his true passion in life – retrieving ducks….