― Heart of a Dog
In the 70's, while living in northern California, I became involved with field trial dogs and over the course of several years came in contact with a number of top professional and amateur dog trainers. I was introduced to the experience of working with highly bred English Setters and English Pointers that were chosen for their drive, stamina, athletic abilities and their "heart", which is how dog men describe an animal with "no quit" in them. These dogs would run and hunt until they collapsed, which placed a burden on the handler to recognize when the dog was past a safe limit and to then pick the dog up. I've ridden and hunted behind some incredible dogs. I think I can recognize a dog with "heart" when I see it.
Bella impressed me from her early days as one of those dogs. From a young age she figured out that retrieving things was why she was put on this earth and once we started using a Chuck-It to launch a tennis ball, her life's focus was clear. She wanted to retrieve and nothing else gave her the pleasure and fulfillment of tracking down a tennis ball in the tall grass on our farm.
Over time she learned to use her incredible nose and the prevailing wind to locate a lost ball and would not quit until she found it. Of the tens of thousands of retrieves that she has completed I can only remember a handful of lost balls...some of which she'd find days or weeks later.
I watched her learn how to position herself down wind from her target and quarter across the incoming breeze until the "scent cone" hit her, then turn into the scent and follow it. As time went on she became more and more skilled at this and when conditions were just right she'd use the wind masterfully.
When scenting conditions were not to her advantage, she learned to take guidance from me in the form of hand signals. When she'd give up looking, she'd stop and look at me, asking for help. My arm raised straight up meant "go back". Straight down meant "come towards me". Arm right, meant "go right" and so on. Eventually it became a simple task to lead her directly to the "lost ball". When she got close and caught the air born scent, her head and body would snap in the direction of the ball and she'd go straight to it. It was a joy to watch her work.
Work is what she loves. In stark contrast, her brother Buck loved hunting for Persimmons and eating deer poop in the pastures. Bella just wants to work. She has that great heart we looked for in top bird dogs. I often wished that she'd had a chance (my fault entirely) to become a bird dog. I am certain she'd have been a great bird finder. I believe that she would have pointed birds (not unheard of in Retrievers) and I know she'd have gone to hell and back to retrieve a downed bird.
Dogs have personalities. Some are goofy, some are nervous, some are happy, some are mean. Bella is serious. She wants to work and nothing gives her more pleasure than hunting for rabbits and lizards in Sherry's garden or retrieving things. If her ball isn't available she'll pick up a rock from our driveway, drop it at my feet and then stare at me until I pick it up and throw it. Many is the time I've taken her rock, heaved it a long ways into the woods, watch her explode after it and minutes later bring that very rock back to my feet and look at me as if to say, "That was great Dad. Let's do it again." Sometimes she'd sneak the rock into the house and I began collecting her "house rocks".
Here's a sample...
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| Bella's House Rocks |
So this is how I will always think of Bella...a working dog with heart who could smell meat a mile away.
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