I’m not sure I can say “Laryngeal Paralysis” once correctly, let alone three times quickly — it’s a tongue twister. It has also been a vet stumper for a number of years. Until three weeks ago I had never heard of it. Let me break this diagnosis down in bird hunter terms which I’m certain…
Dropped Wyatt off at the vet this morning for an exploratory procedure. I am now trying to do anything, accomplish something, will myself to the positive. I’m over-caffeinated and staged nearby awaiting the vet’s call. I can talk about the details, the minutia of his afflictions. I’ve gnashed over the could be and mights, in…
Selective memory is a close ally to puppies. Recollection of puppy breath and cuddles gloss over the challenges of house training and toothy destruction. Adorable naps and puppy eyes erase the boundless energy and predawn bawling. It’s been six years since the last puppy, which has been plenty of time for revisionist history to mask…
I’ve always found the haphazard naming of dogs intriguing. I’ve wondered if a puppy grows into the name, filling the shape of some predetermined vessel? I like original names, probably because I have irrational hopes for my bird dogs to be uniquely exceptional. But then names different for different’s sake grind on me. People names…
Wyatt knows he’s black. He also knows this is the color of night. He’s been able to surmise that humans have terrible night vision. During daylight hours when we take breaks from hunting, he plots. He knows most mischief will not fly in the light of day. Raiding other camps, gnawing a nearby rotting deer…