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Mulak Reader - WISDOMHere’s a character sketch of a fellow who I liked a lot, and who died young. I showed the story to his wife a while back, and she was upset that I had Tommy drinking beer, and, of course, he never drank beer. She failed to see that the writer really liked the man who had been her husband and misses having him around to run ideas by. It appeared in the Yarnspin section of Gray’s, and it was reprinted as part of Brown Feathers. WISDOM
"This is kinda like fishing: Sometimes you just get a nibble, but no fish." Brennan Roy, age 11 (Watching my dog false point while working pheasants)
The idea that I needed a new puppy struck me when I counted years on my fingers and discovered that Win had been five on her last birthday. My first dog, Duffy, had spent his life with my parents for any number of reasons, but mostly because I didn't have the heart to take him away from my mother when I got married and moved out. So although I had owned bird dogs for 12 years, the joy of having two dogs digging up the back yard at the same time had never been mine. A new puppy was definitely in my future, but I was curious as to what I was letting myself in for. Each advantage of a second dog seemed to be offset by one of a series of drawbacks. There were a lot of field trial men I might have talked to, some of them with more dogs than Carter has peanuts. Unfortunately, to a man they violently disagreed with my keeping bird dogs in the house rather than outside in a kennel. That's what made Tom's advice particularly valuable. He had been living with any number of bird dogs sleeping on and under his porch for years. His yard looked like an artillery practice range, and the most vile word in his wife's vocabulary was "dog hair". Here was the man I needed to talk to. We were paired as judges at a little field trial, and were cooling our heels between heats. I didn't beat around the bush. "Tom, what about two dogs?" "I've got more'n that." "Yea, I know. I'm thinking of buying a second dog... " "Okay. Gimmie a hundred an' you can take home my Pete dog there." He indicated a hyperactive pointer puppy, just completing his millionth lap around his three-foot chain stake. "Materafac', I'll even come out an' shoot him for you in a month or so when you can't take him no more." "No, no. I don't want to buy one of your dogs, for Chrissake. I want some of your advice." "Don't buy a pointer." Tom shook his head. "I won't. But what do you think of the theory that two dogs will keep each other entertained? I've heard that you don't have as much of a problem with them digging and trying to get out of the yard and such." "You can't never tell." Tom scratched the stubble on his chin. "Sometimes, a couple of bored dogs 'll spell each other diggin' under the fence. Guess they figure it's faster that way, an' they ain't as tired when they finally tunnel out." He grinned at me. "Really, though, sometimes a pup 'll make an old dog young again. But sometimes, too, an old mutt will decide he's gonna rule the roost and won't have nothin' to do with the pup 'cept to bite him once in a while, and there goes your companionship idea." He added, "The only real answer for that is to be sure that the pup you buy is gonna grow bigger than the dog you've got now." "I don't know if I like that idea." An image had appeared in my imagination. "Fifteen years and three dogs from now, I'll have a bird dog I can put a saddle on and ride around like a horse." Tom shrugged. "That's fair." I consulted the next item on my mental checklist. "How about one dog helping to train the other? They say the only thing a pup learns from an older dog is bad habits." "'They say, They say...' Who's this 'They' that keeps tellin' you all this stuff?" "All the dogs I've ever talked to." There was a long pause. "That explains a lot about you, Mulak." We both grinned. "It can go either way, that trainin' thing. Sometimes a dog 'll help you out by settin' a good example. And competition between a pup an' an older dog can be useful if you handle it right." Tom leaned back on his flimsy folding chair and lit a Lucky. "On the other hand, try as I might, the only thing my Jill dog there ever learned from Ol' Mike was t' lift her leg. She never did that before I owned her." As if on cue, Jill irrigated her stake in the manner of a male dog. I persisted. "How about jealousy? Two dogs under the same roof as pets... The kids are bound to favor one over the other. How do you handle that?" "That's pretty much the same as the others: You can't never tell ahead of time. Dogs 're all individuals—Some will an' some won't." He shrugged. "Hell, sometimes I'm jealous of my dogs..." "You're not much help, you know that?" I put on a bit of mock exasperation. "Here I've come all this way... " "All the way from Chicopee..." Tom prompted. "...from Chicopee to sit at the feet of the dog guru and listen to his advice, and instead of wisdom all I've gotten is a pantsload of maybe's." For a moment Tom screwed up his face in thought, then smiled when he had just the right response. "Okay—But you gotta promise to keep this a secret. When you're dealing with mutts, the only thing that's sure 'bout gettin' a second dog..." He leaned close and whispered. "...is that you'll have twice as much dog shit to pick up. Guaranteed. None of that other stuff you've heard is true... Necessarily. “There: You wanted wisdom, you got it." He pointed his finger in my face. "Now then, my advice don't come cheap: One beer. You buy." I bought.
This site was last updated 09/22/06 |
