Whatever You Say Baggs

I was going to title this “Quill Face” since that does well describe the picture.  But this is more about trust.  The trust between a man and his dog.

Most days Waylon and I get out for a walk/hike between 3 and 5 miles.  If its in town, it’s a walk.  Out of town, it’s a hike…that’s how I see it.  So Saturday’s “hike” was on public access Wy State Trust Land between Sheridan and Ranchester Wyoming, about 5 miles from the Montana border.  Its near the “train station” where the Dutton’s bury the bodies on Yellowstone 😉 It’s where Goose Creek converges with the Tongue River.  It’s quite an extraordinary place.  A beautifully reclaimed area where a coal mining operation operated for decades.  It’s now public open space with hiking trails, fishing ponds, river access and where big game and bird hunting is allowed.  I’m so impressed by the commitment folks here have made to habitat improvements, public access, education, and conservation.

Back to the story.  We were hiking, not hunting. BUT, that doesn’t mean we can’t get in a little training and pop up a couple birds…which we did.  Waylon is a flusher, not a pointer.  My last lab Angus, was a pointer.  He would snap to a point when he got close to the scent and would stay still till hunters got in position.  Then I hollered “get the bird”!  Boom, boom, boom. Waylon on the other hand, gets the scent and plows right in…ya gotta be ready.  So when Waylon stopped and “pointed” into a clump of sage brush and tumble weeds I hollered “get the bird”!  Waylon looked at me then back at the brush.  I hollered again. Here’s where the trust comes in. Probably knowing better but trusting me, he says “whatever you say Baggs” and in he goes.  YELP! Out comes Waylon with a very bewildered face full of porcupine quills.

My dogs and I have had run ins with critters before, skunks, squirrels, rabbits, snakes, even a badger once!  But never a porcupine.  Ya don’t wanna mess with a porcupine!  God equipped that animal with an awesome defense mechanism.  The quills are not easy to pull out.  They have barbs at the end that work similar to a fish hook. Waylon and I had an intimate conversation as I performed some field first aid.  I told him I was sorry.  He forgave me of course, but asked me to be more careful, I promised I would.

His face is no worse for wear, no lingering effects.  I took him out the next day to an area I knew was thick with pheasants to get him “back on the horse”, so to speak.  I was relieved that he had no problem poppin up some birds despite his experience the day before.  The moral of the story?  You guessed it.  A dog’s trust (love) is unconditional.