Commentary
Over the years I have had many people ask, how does the Spinone compare with this dog or that dog? I usually answer by pointing out the physical and empirical differences realizing only to well, my answers fall short, and deny the Spinone his just due. There is so much to the Spinone, beyond physical description, that must be defined by active participation in the total Spinone experience.
Each day is new and rewarding in its own right. The Spinone experience is an ongoing everlasting enigma transcending all other personal experience. For this reason the story is offered. It is without a title as the Spinone experience has no beginning nor does it end. The experience is a legend flowing through time, it has always been, and it will always be. The effect on each individual is infinitely different, and each individual will read the story differently. Some will understand, others will not, and still others will pretend.
It is for you the reader to judge your understanding, and add this comprehension to other points of acquired knowledge. Perhaps, after you read this short story, you too will want a Spinone. Please remember, the Spinone is not just a dog and hunter, not only a great companion and pet. Oh yes! Spinoni are the epitome of all these, but they are also “legendary”. You have not set out to acquire an animal, but have destined yourself for a glorious friendship. You do not select a legend for a day, a month or a year, but for all eternity or for as long as God sees fit to allow you to be “one”.
I hope to add more short stories of my experiences as they occur. Please feel free to join us from time to time. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did living and writing it. To quote another reader and Spinone owner “that’s what it's all about."
I would like to share an experience with you, an
enlightening eye opening experience. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Opening day of duck hunting season was a typical Wisconsin fall day; it was the kind of day that makes hunting secondary to the enjoyment of just walking the woods and marshes. I thought I would take a stroll down to the creek, sit on the bank, and wait for a duck. They often float down the creek sunning themselves on days like this. I would bring no decoys or duck call. This would be a refresher training session in patience for one of the dogs rather than a real hunt. Now came the decision of which dog to take.
I remembered back to last year and a problem Bosco had with his last duck retrieve. He mauled the duck and tasted blood. I decided he was a good candidate for some training. I Probably said a little prayer that his performance from the previous year would not be repeated. I figured the duck, not having been well hit, and not to pleased about this hunting thing, was pecking the hell out of Boss as he tried to retrieve it. Boss lost his cool on that one.
We walked through the woods and I watched the rhythmic motion of the Spinone cantor and thought what a wonderful animal, so very different than all the other breeds in the world, so many exceptional traits both physical and mental, so many differences from slight nuances to hugely apparent and obvious distinctions. All the things that make up the Spinone. The Spinone I have grown to love more than any breed I've ever known.
What a day! What a great day I thought. As Bosco came running back for a quick check in, I sat on a log and called him in to me. We sat there having a general conversation. Just a quiet little communication, a meeting of the minds, on a beautiful fall day. We discussed many things that day. Some of the worlds' weightiest problems were solved on that log. Now I would never claim the Spinone is able to use mental telepathy, but I was suddenly compelled to tell him I would give him an extra portion of food if he would not repeat last years performance.
We finally made it to the creek bank. It stands about four feet above the quick moving waters. This particular spot is deep, and has a little wider area where a slew heads off into the marsh. It forms a wide Y in the creek and with a little imagination one could call it a small pond. We hunkered down in a lowered sunken spot behind some foliage and waited. Boss passed the time patiently filling himself to the brim with anticipation. After about forty-five minutes he started to shake; the only sounds were some squirrels chattering in the woods and his little tail swishing back and forth in the grass. He turned his head listening intently, and then turning quickly back, his eyes would meet mine as if to say, 'Did you hear that?"
I heard a splash around the bend of the creek and prepared to shoot. Four wood ducks came floating down the creek. As they approached, I stood up and stepped forward for them to see me. There was an uproar caused by wings splashing and slapping as the surprised ducks took flight. I waited for them to get out about thirty yards and picked off one of the males. He dropped into the middle of the Y in the creek. I spoke softly "Go boy," and with what seemed one fluid motion, Boss came up out of the low spot, from his prone position and over the bank. The water flew as ninety pounds of Spinone hit the creek flat out. As Boss hit the water I was startled by a high-pitched scream. I turned and looked over my shoulder, and then heard it again almost bloodcurdling. I could never describe that sound with words. It sounded much like a hawk scream. The long piercing blast lasted maybe three seconds at a time.
Then came the same high pitch in three short blasts sounding like "Yep, yep, yep". This was a dead giveaway and I realized it was Boss. For a moment I was scared he had gored himself with something in the water, but I realized he was still swimming strongly towards the duck. He had so much pent up anticipation that he could not restrain himself. Wow! I couldn't believe I actually heard that come from a dog. Boss arrived at the duck, and without breaking stride turned and headed back towards me. He must have thought I had gone off my rocker because I had a case of uncontrollable laughter. It took a few seconds to realize he was waiting for me to take the duck. I reached down and he dropped it in my hand.
I finally pulled myself together and wiped the tears from my eyes. Trying not to start laughing again, I sat back down into my natural little blind. Boss sat until I gave him the down command. You could see the pride, shining in his eyes, as his body started a new round of shivers and the tail went into motion.
We sat there for a long time looking into each other's eyes. The only words I spoke were "good boy". That's all he needed. Those two words said I approve of you and you are forgiven for past indiscretions. I turned quickly to look over my shoulder, and there was no one there. That's odd! I could have sworn I heard someone say very softly "thank you".
Mike McCormick