(Back by popular demand, Scott’s six-year-old German Wirehair has posted his next blog. His nephew, Manny, is still learning to type but Buddy says he’s progressing nicely and will soon be filing his own reports from the field. Here is Buddy’s latest account:)
We’re a pretty good team, The Pup and I. He’s a diamond in the “ruff,” but that beard and those eyebrows sure hold promise!
That day The Boss took us a long way in the box-on-wheels-he-yells-at. When we finally jumped onto the cold white stuff we were happy. Cold good, we smell easier. Not smell better, The Boss says … he thinks dead deer pieces we roll on bad; we LOVE. Better birrrd sniffing, though.
The Pup sniffed three-toe tracks on cold white stuff, up one bump and down another. Me too. Big smell stopped us. Birrrrrds go up and boom stick loud! I look for more, The Pup carries still birrrrd to The Boss. Boss learning: give back to Pup for more sniff-lick and he is happy, won’t swallow birrrd. Good human!
Bang! Boom! Stick works good, for a change. Little birrrds fall down. We bring for extra sniff and taste, get to go again. Two booms and one birrrd on white cold stuff. But The Pup not watching The Boss … playing in wet splash. Sniff-lick for me and go again but I know: other birrrd in sticks by wet splash.
The Boss stroke my top and scratch my floppy hears when I mouth second birrrd to him. Big kibble after!