Right now, it is basics. Come. Down. Mabel. Fetch. More fetch.
Never too much fetch with a setter.
I think I can see it burning there. But then she doesn’t listen, turns the other way, does not even raise her head from a pile of fresh horseshit when I double-tap the whistle. Could she possibly be deaf? No, here she comes running like a bat of out hell right into my shins.
So we play fetch and play-fetch. Dabble around the water. Follow the older dogs into the field. Kennel up. Remove socks and sandals and shoes from the clamp of needle-tooth. Play fetch some more. A routine of walking. Kennel time. Leash time. Fetch. More fetch. Crate. Meet other dogs. Puppies. Children. Picnics. People. Socialize. And play fetch some more.
There’s a new bird dog in the making and a new season out in front of her nose. Welcome to my world, Mabel.
5 thoughts on “The Possible”
Looks dang cute. Good luck this fall with the pup.
Nothing better than a new dog. Well, a few things, but not many.
One thing better than a new dog, the one you love, the old one living a few more good years……
Cute little bugger for sure. But then, they all are.
Puppy breath will compliment gun powder and changing autumn colors quite nicely.