The Best Bird Dog Ever
It was another frigid Maryland morning. A stiff breeze was gusting, threatening to tip me into the nearby Magothy River as my black Lab pup bounded along down the sandy beach. My plan was to introduce the youngster to the shock of cold, winter water gradually, starting that day.
In the warmer months, Hobbes had always entered the water and swam boldly. But since this was his first winter, I didn’t want to thrust any unpleasant surprises on him. I cradled a retrieving dummy in my hand and as the wind gust seemed to peak, I timed a high throw to put it just a foot or two into the bitter waters along the river’s edge.
But the gust hadn’t peaked, it had just paused, and as the training dummy arced out high over the beach, a wind burst took the bumper sailing well out into the river. I started to call Hobbes to heel and declare the thrown dummy lost in action but it was too late, he had seen his prey.
With no hesitation whatsoever, Hobbes threw himself into the chilly waters and swam mightily after the dummy. I cringed. Would the shock of the cold water make him hesitant in the future, would the cold sap his strength? Could he catch up with the departing bumper?
He was, after all, only 10 months old. But as he pulled himself along, threatening to lift his entire body out of the water with each stroke of his broad, webbed paws, I finally relaxed. He is as much at home in the water in January as he had been in July.