I have a fairly dumb dog that has become a member of the family
over the years. She hates my Lake Erie boat but will tolerate my
bass boat and just loves to run through the brambles collecting
burrs and assorted nasties just being a dog while I fly fish.
A dog is a great companion even on a boat. She will get excited
when I catch a fish, something my family has failed to do for years,
and I'll let you know that it's a great thing. It's kind of nice when
late at night you are tying to have someone that loves you snuggle
next to your feet. It sure makes it easier to tie those last five or six
elk hair caddis.
Once when my veterinarian mentioned my dog had cataracts my wife
was all set for high dollar doggie surgery. It took me three weeks to
explain how painful that surgery was in dogs. If my family had to
choose between me and the dog I would have to acquire a taste for
dog biscuits and Amber would have to learn to tie flies.
My dogs haircut costs more than mine and she has a nicer looking
barber. Old Harold my barber just doesn't measure up.
When I fish my river I take her as she really enjoys it. After a hard day
on the river she likes Grable's hamburgers almost as much as Dave
and neither of them get into my Fosters. Actually some days when
she doesn't bark she can be preferred company since she doesn't sore
mouth my trout ahead of me. It's hard to bring a friend on your river
and have them sore mouth so many fish they loose count. Since my
dog catches no trout she's always welcome. Anyone that catches
less trout than me is always welcome. Dave and Tim take note.
Try fishing the last half of the day with the fly broken off at the barb.
There is a part in Fly Fishing Etiquette 101 taught at all good schools
that says never catch more fish than your host. Amber has learned that
small fact of life rather well, and she doesn't tie a better fly either.
Maybe she's smarter than she looks.
Amber and I have a great bond that has tied us together over the years.
We both hate winter, and can't wait till spring to run through the
brambles on my river.
Each time I take her out to do her thing we follow the same little game.
We open one door and it's cold and nasty so we go to another door,
and when it's the same we go to the next.
I know what she is doing. She is looking for that door into spring.
I go with her not only to humor her, but I suppose I'm looking too.
Late at night when I see her run and bark in her sleep I know where
she is. She has found her door into spring. I just roll over and look
for mine. ~ Old Rupe
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