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Mulak Reader - Mike’s DogThis one appeared in the initial issue of Gun Dog, and I reprinted it in Brown Feathers. It’s the shortest of short stories—a joke, actually—that I first heard from my friend Mike Sharik years ago. This story still tickles me. Mike’s Dog
While straightening out a few things in my corner of the cellar I happened to bump the peg where the dogs' hunting collars were hung. The attached bells tinkled softly, and although it was 10 p.m. on the snowiest night of February, both dogs were instantly at my feet, dancing with expectation. Pavlov first documented it, but anyone who has ever owned a hunting dog knows the association dogs quickly make with anything connected to "going out": Pull on your boots before venturing out to shovel the driveway, or check over your shotgun in preparation for a trip to the skeet range, and the dogs are there, trembling with excitement and asking unspoken questions with their eyes. The association isn't limited to inanimate things, either: Let your hunting partner show up for a night of poker and beer and even a sleeping dog is quickly in second gear at the sound of his voice. My friend Mike tells of a dog he once had as a boy in Pennsylvania. "He was just a mongrel, but damned if he wasn't the smartest dog I've ever known. I'd get down my little Fox twenty side-by and he'd know right away what we were doin' - He'd head straight for the alders and start huntin' birds. And if I'd get out my father's 12 gauge automatic, he'd watch the sky for ducks. When he saw me carryin' the .22, he'd hunt nothin' but rabbits and squirrels, and he knew the .30-30 meant he should run deer. He was smart. Why, one day I got out my fishin' rod and when I looked for that dog he was out in the yard, diggin' worms." Mike was good. He never cracked a smile until after the last line.
This site was last updated 09/21/06 |
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