Just like every morning a quick trip to the kennel to feed Pistol and dash off to work. Pistol is my nine-year-old pointing lab and my hunting partner for ducks and pheasants. He is a pointing lab with a good nose and lots of energy, a rock-solid point when pheasant hunting and a love for the water regardless of temperature when duck hunting.
When he is not hunting, his favorite things are riding in the UTV next to me or my granddaughter who is 5 years old leaning on me or her. Not sitting but standing on the seat. He loves to “fetch” for her and is so excited when the granddaughters come over because that means extra treats and extra affection, brushing and pool fetches which makes the girls giggle in delight.
Pistol’s home is a high ceiling palace all plastic customized garden shed, converted into a walk-in doghouse with storage, lights, heat lamp and heated water dish. Opening to a custom 14 x 24-foot concrete patio with a guest house. The guest house located poolside is an Igloo style home donated by a neighbor when he moved. The outdoor bunk beds or patio/pool lounges are located next to a seasonal plastic pool. All surrounded by a high black square mesh wire fence to keep the strays and undocumented out. After all every home and property has a proper entrance and exit. Pistol’s place or palace is no different. Pistol had no political preference and refused to be labeled Democrat or Republican just because he enjoys his privacy and has a completed border fence.
Pistol will record the winter of 2022 2023 as his favorite. The top 10 snowiest ever made him very happy. He loves riding in the UTV and plowing snow with me, his face next to mine looking out the window trying to lick my face occasionally, which you know is not my favorite after all I know he likes to lick his private pars with that very same tongue. In his defense that might explain why he was generally in a very good mood most of the time.
The snowy winter gave us some extra unscheduled hours together. I will never understand why he refused to sit on a seat. It was fun for him because he got some time with me without putting on 1000+ steps to my one afield or jumping into ice cold swamp water then shaking off next to me sharing his dampness with a dog smile and a deposit to hand. It was an enjoyable adventure, the cold nights plowing snow.
At nine he is in his prime, fully trained and knows the signs of fun or work. If I step out of my house in non-business attire, he demands my attention from his dog palace and patio with a pool.
He migrates to a padded kennel in a heated shed for the winter. His equivalent of a trip west to Arizona or south to Florida, is his version of being a snowbird I guess, with all the perks of winter.
Pistol has an all-in type of personality. My son described him as a perfect football player, a special teamer, going 100mph all the time, all gas, no brakes.
I know he can sense my movement in the house. In the morning when look out the window I see him exit his palace and come to the corner of his patio and look at the house waiting to say hello, excited to see me like I had been gone a million years instead of just a few hours. Every day, without fail.
We picked Pistol up from in Sioux Falls South Dakota, on September 15, 2015. He was well trained and affectionate from the start. My son was a freshman at the University of Minnesota Duluth playing against the University of Sioux Falls. We were excited to see him play football after a redshirt year. Pleased and surprised he made the traveling team and was getting on the field. The game worked out great, we could pick up our new dog and saw a football game. What could be better?
I found out quickly what could be better. Just two months later leaving a day early for a game in SD at Aberdeen. My wife, Pistol and I were able to go hunting the Friday before a game. Both enjoying their first time afield in South Dakota.
A quick limit of three roosters in 45 minutes with a new dog and my wife saying “You spend a week out here doing this? What do you do the rest of the day?” I assured her it was far from the normal. I was beyond excited with a new dog that pointed and hunted well, very well. The success was the beginning of a long but never long enough relationship. We got to know each other a little bit that first hunt in SD. One thing I failed to mention was along with the 3 quick roosters there was a 4th rooster that had the luxury of one of my standard misses and I got “the look” from Pistol “Really, you missed that?” A look that I would see more than I care to admit.
Football and pheasant hunting ……the smile creeps onto my face just typing it.
A smile I desperately need. I struggle typing this through blurry eyes fighting the tears that try to well up in them.
Pistol did not wake up for his afternoon nap. A nap he took near the edge of his kennel. This morning when I fed him, he was sluggish. One of the very few times he was ever that way. Although with a little bit of gray around his muzzle, the tip of his tail, and tops of his feet, I thought oh well you are starting to feel like me in the morning it takes a little bit to get going.
We had our daily pep talk to each other, telling each other to have a good day and encouraging each other that we both had a big day ahead and it will be a good one. I stopped and gave him an extra rub on the head that morning hoping it made him feel better, I left and drove off to work just like any other day.
When I pulled into the driveway at the end of the day and did not see him running back and forth to greet me, I slowed down and saw him lying on his patio next to his pool just outside his dog palace. Motionless. I slammed the brakes, stopped the truck mid driveway and opened the door and yelled PISTOL! No movement, not even an ear wiggle, Pistol! I was hoping he was just sleeping. I was in denial, he never missed a beat, if I was there, he was ready for action. I yelled again, my wife heard me from the house and came to me, she could tell by the tone of my voice something was very wrong. She knew immediately what we were facing and could see the tears building in my eyes and the disbelief at what I was seeing.
Pistol did not answer my request for attention. He had given me his everything for as long as he was scheduled to. I must accept that. But I do not have to like it and I don’t like it; I did not like it when my “first ever” dog as a child died and it kept me from getting a dog for decades. I am grateful I was spared the agony of making the decision to put him down like I did with Beau his who had a battle with cancer.
Thank you, Pistol, say hello to your hunting predecessors “Angel Baby” and “Beau” who helped me be a better partner for you. Please tell them we miss them and hope they are doing well with you in dog heaven. Please tell them I have become a better shot, it is ok to tell white lies to them, they know the truth and you all will probably have a good laugh. You can tell them you are thankful for my good hunting partners. My son and his friends and my lifelong friends and hunting comrades football friends from High School who shot as many birds behind Pistol as anyone.
Pistol don’t believe all the stories those two dogs tell you and do not tell them you had a palace, a patio, and a pool with all the perks. They were not nearly as fortunate and might give you the cold shoulder knowing you had it so nice.
Tell Angel Baby my first hunting dog, I am grateful to her for letting me know how wonderful it is to hunt behind a good dog and to know that I was not ready to have a dog full time. You can let her know I never let my kids have the final vote on naming another dog. Yelling “Angel Baby” in the middle of a field is sometimes a bit awkward. You can brag to her that I never lost you for a day in the western fields of North Dakota. Tell her the young girls that named her have girls of their own now and you got to meet them and play with them. Tell her I thought of her often at her new home with a good hunter.
Tell Beau about the hunts in North and South Dakota she will know exactly what you are talking about. Let her know I am grateful she let me know I was ready to have a full-time dog and she was a fantastic match and took me to the next level of being a better dog partner. She trained me well for you as you did for me if I decide to have another dog hunting partner. You can brag to Beau that I never forgot you when leaving for home in SD. An extra 4.5 hour round trip once I found out her kennel was empty just outside of Brookings. Beau, please tell Pistol about how we turned that mistake into a fantastic personal hunt just the two of us much like our first hunt together.
Pistol you can brag about the grandkids and how you had them wrapped around your big paws. They were not fortunate enough to meet them. Share the stories. They will enjoy them.
Pistol you are in your heavenly holster now, far too soon in my opinion. Until we meet again. I miss you, my 4-legged friend.—-Mark