Cats and Dogs

Sometimes dogs and cats get along, but only when they get to know each other at an early age. This fearless tom cat named Spike was friendly to my old hunting partner Valentine.

Dogs and cats were created to be different. Lola likes our two Siamese cats, but they hate her. She tries to play and all they want to do is run away or scratch her eyeballs out.

Lola thinks just about everything is her friend, but that doesn’t stop her from chasing it when he runs or retrieving it after its dead.

Here’s one that didn’t get away from Lola.

I’ve huned enough with Lola to know when something is up.

Last week we were hiking in familiar territory. We took a lesser-used ridge, with no trail, down a hill. It was only about 200 yards between trails, but as soon as we left the beaten path, Lola became animated. she put her nose to the ground and then jerked her head up as if expecting to see something, but nothing was there.

Not wanting her to get carried away, I gave her a soft comeon and she turned in the direction I was heading, but then she gained speed and before I knew it she was face to face with, and five yards from, a full-grown bobcat.

This cat was similar in size to the one Lola discovered.

The cat stood as tall as possible and Lola let out a sound that can only be described as hounddoggish. The cat tried to high-five Lola and they broke off. The cat jumped off a steep bank and my hollering stopped Lola from following.

For the rest of the hike, I could tell Lola was a bit off her game. I think she felt like a baseball player after taking a fat pitch. She’d liked to have had the opportunity over again.

No labs around this house.

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Do Dogs Smile?

Yes they do.

Val, a Labrador retriever that now hunts in the happy hunting grounds, was a very happy dog. She had a smile on her face most of the time, until she got so old that everything ached.

My young lab, Lola, was very fond of Val. Val tolerated Lola and even warmed up to her after a while. Lola is all dog, she likes humans, but (I think) she prefers the company of dogs.

A morning ritual at my house was for Val to retrieve the newspaper. She was good at it and I’d give her a treat after she brought me the paper. Lola would just stand and watch. On occation, I attempted to get Lola to retrieve the paper while Val was alive. She wouldn’t do it. She’d just watch Val and beg for a treat of her own.

I worried a little about how Lola would react when Val was no longer around. Sometimes dogs react very negatively when the leader of the pack disappears.

After Val was gone, Lola was a little down, but after about a week she seemed to perk up.

When I awoke this morning, I laid in bed and actually thought about Lola’s attitude. For one thing, a happy dog is a better hunter and companion.  Now it’s been over two months since Val’s departure and I’ve been a little conerned about Lola’s attitude. She seems serious all the time and hasn’t been flashing her dog smile that is very charming.

On the other hand, she has started retrieving the morning paper, something she never did while Val was alive. This morning, I opened the gate and pointed her to the paper. She darted to it, picked it up and ran back to me – dropping it at my feet and flashing her dog smile.

I guess she’s doing OK.

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Closing the Book on Val (Feb 14, 1994- Nov 25, 2008)

I stood facing away from the other patrons with Val’s leash and colar in my left hand and a receipt for $89 in my right. I tried to maintain some kind of dignity, but there was no way to stop the tears. I’m a cryer, but I thought I might be able to hold it together on Val’s last trip to the vet.

It hit me when the vet stepped into the room – the fact that this was the end for Val. Her official birthday  – February 14, 1994. I always suspected it was really only close to February 14th and the date was moved as a marketing gimmick. It really didn’t matter anyway, so we named her Valentine. (I also wondered if all the pups in that litter ended up with the same name.)

The Vet tried to talk to me, but I just kept repeating, “It’s time, yes it’s time.”

And, she went peacefully.

Val was high octane when it was time to play. She was one of those dogs that never quit – always putting something in your lap, or at your feet. It was annoying, that was just Val.

She was a very good retriever, not great, but she took hand signals well and I could get her to most birds – even if she didn’t see them go down.

She had watery eyes all the time and she hunted pheasants best if I gave her half a benadryl (?) tablet before hunting. I think she had cronic sinus problems, so she didn’t have a great nose.

Like all dogs, she was a loyal companion.

Val’s first retrieve was on opening day of duck season in 1994. Three of us knocked down eight widgeon from a large flock at a salt pond on SF bay. She took after after a couple swimmers and retrieved two of the eight. I think we retrieved seven of the eight, with one disappearing.

Val’s final retrieve took place at Mayberry Farms on the last day of the 2006/07 waterfowl seasson. The bird she brougt me was a double-banded greenhead with a $100 reward band.

Nice upgrade Val.

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Opening Day of Duck Season 2008

It was a slow opener at Mayberry Farms. Just didn’t have the number of ducks that usually show. Could have been due to the way we managed the club in September, but more likely it was simply due to the ducks not being in our area.

Funny how ducks move around. We try to understand why they are sometimes there and not at other times, but it’s such a dynamic system.

We shot almost all mallards, totaling 28 between five of us for two days. This is about half our normal opening weekend total. But, it’s hard to complain about a couple days in the marsh hunting ducks.

Saturday, on her second opening day, Lola got off to a slow start by not retrieving the first few ducks we shot. She did find them and keep them at bay (yes actually barking at a couple of them).

She got redemtion on Sunday. After a greenhead went down about 20 yards into a dense cattail patch, she came out with the bird in her mouth and I was satisfied that we’ll turn things around soon.

She’s hot to hunt, but shy around the dead ducks - same as last year. Who knows what goes through a dogs brain.

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