Suggested memories, I remembered hilarious case connected with my first gun dog.
Puppy-shustriki German wire-haired setter I called Share (slice), cherishing the hope that it will become a part of me will be by my destiny. But it is not specified. It was not me with her share for the simple reason that this bitch — she unrestrained! Dog — fire! Well temperament! During nataski young Germans, I was biting his elbows because, taking into account the guidance book, I opted for the living and active puppy in the litter. But already in being sixty days old can be seen and had the infection. At the time, as four of her ash-gray brothers and sisters, after eating to satiety, stretched beside Nurse roofed, my «destiny» in the coffee shirt worn at the court of an elderly breeder like mad, driving a tin of condensed milk.
Soon I saw the light. But what to do? This is not a little thing, that if had not like you can throw away. I hunted with it reluctantly. Good dog, I must say! Game chasing it with a zeal not according to knowledge. What tin her bird that quail — anyway … Neither of which field diplomas, certainly not out of the question. What is there! Four Seasons spoil it my blood. For a long time, I was tormented by doubts: what is the cause of this indomitable? Ugly nataska? Heredity? Or maybe it was the fruit of my inexperience, and I missed the dog?
Profane in the education and nataski dog myself, of course, I did not think, though not possessed all the skills to perfection. As they say, a century live — and learn, fool die … once got a «good» counselor, «Let it flow in.» I tried to keep myself in check and brushed aside an extreme measure, but admit there were moments when the hands were scratched … The examples abound.
Once I happened to be in the hunt with my old buddies. Once arrived at the field, quail, my bearded, mustachioed stervoza ignoring caring host and idle talk his nerves immediately clung to the owner of passenger cars on which we were traveling. In my heart, I was separated from the company. Enough of it to me by noon. When the bitch povilivaya stump of a tail, as if nothing had happened came to me, I have demonstrated deliberate indifference. In the shower there was some rust. In addition, one of the participants hunting Natrusov me the salt the wound on the heart. «Tell me — jokingly blurted owner of» Lada «a third member of our Kompashki — mail us start with you and feed the dogs?
We must take Vovka (that is me) on the hunt, and will always be with the full game bag. «
I was a cloud a cloud. Whether heard this thing ?! Subsequently, «faithful friend» repeatedly threw out the trick. Every time the same thing: who is behind the wheel of the car — the one her stuff, and Lili, and link to it in the field. Purposely not think. For her, any methods as dead poultices.
An interesting movie! Let it be a bitch, but dobychlivaya. Hunting — her passion. She had a right upper flair, and over the fowl she was dead. However it is known that for a good gun dog insufficient. And as a universal German dived for the wounded ducks! Sometimes, after a slap shot Mallard in the channel and at the crash site but only a feather ripples … Slice torpedo swim to cane and looked around, pulling in air, gurgling, smooth otter, under water. Bah! It emerges at some distance from the crash site of a bird with Utitsa in the teeth! Dives, tireless, chutistaya, well, what of it? A spoonful of honey will not sweeten a barrel of tar.
For the time being, cursing, I bore her Figl-Miglena, but in September the 92 th (I did not have the nerves of steel) punched her time. I put a cross on it, so it fell to the share of … dog’s patience was exhausted after a bitch to catch in the artificial irrigation channel downed my drake, made handsome For green to the other side … and began to torment him. And rend and devour pointedly polseleznya (to prevent its actions, naturally, I could not), foul dog in anticipation of punishment, walked away. Someone who, but I is not made. Gild this pill is not possible … To take a sin, accept Solomonic decision: now surely its endowment despicable creature dumb hold without me, curse! I’m fed up with her dirty tricks.
These things were not short-term solution. Acting with foresight, I prepared Dole shift. My incomparable Martha at that time knocked half a year.
Despite the finality of its decision, I stayed at a crossroads: whether it is justified by the decision in the middle of the season? What, after all, and is still a working dog. Even with the plague — all better than those without dogs. A heard of jade and yet coveted dobychlivuyu dog twice drove to know about my plans. Denying them, I emphasized the fact that the wait a little a couple of weeks, and see what happens. From a certain moment, everything changed, and regular buyers come at the time …
— There is a rumor, you, Volodya, assign a slice — said my friend Anatoly local artist, getting out of the cherry «six». He nodded to the passenger sitting in the back seat. — Boys desperately need a working hunting dog. — And with the value added: — It is not a demanding customer.
— Who it? — I asked.
— Familiar salazhonok of farm Lviv.
— What is name?
— Dima. Recently demobilized. Two years vigilantly guarding the borders of the motherland. He has a craving for young polish hunting. He even before the army pulled by me on the field, and after serving, decided to be closed up a full-fledged hunter, bought the gun, and now his eyes flared at drathaar.
Acquainted with Dima, I told a small hairy in a few words what hunting with a gun, which he knew how I understood superficially. Nowhere more servicemen yesterday was to gain experience. The artist, taking sides with the young man chimed in.
— Dima our professional dog breeder, — explained the veteran hunter with lukavinkoy in his eyes. — At the outpost served cynologist.
— Service Tracking Shepherd and pointer — heaven and earth, — I said. — Put setter — maetnoe occupation. In this case, a lot of specifics.
— Do not teach a scientist. Themselves with a mustache — said the young man.
Where there is ambition? I could not wait Drop zaznayku: you still walk upright under the table, when I wandered hunting trails. I see no ear or snout not understand anything snotty kid in the dog. And I come to meddle with their advice: do that and then some. «If anything, come to me» — I offered my services. Toll has supported me, «He, listen you telling the truth. Motel on a mustache «But Dima wanted to spit on my mind and my instructions. «There is nothing to teach me, — he snapped arrogantly. — I’m the bitch vymushtruyu at once. «
Such, I think, not vtolkuesh. Nikchemushny conversation to talk to him — like peas against the wall. I poured a nightingale about hunting with a share, tell it without reserve (murder will not hide!). In the end, we agreed on favorable terms. Though she was a bastard, but at the heart of rolled up. But after a share, not even looking at me, hopped into their car, the worm of doubt is no longer sharpened my heart: her tablecloth road …
Anticipating such a scenario, I left it without regret and rest the soul.
…A month later, he met in the grounds of a hamlet Lviv his friend the painter, hunted with his beloved dachshund. I hunted with Martha, who has worked perfectly.
— How is Dima doing? Is there something new? The share has already recognized him as their master? He has, I hear, things are going smoothly. It would not hurt to come back.
Amateur burrowing, stroking his beard, laughed in response:
— Dima hunts — nadorvesh tummies. So riddle you asked him!
— What? — I ask.
And I heard what happened recently experienced the shock Dimka. Here is the interesting story of the landscape: «Get our dog funny feet on his first hunt with a gun dog belonging to him. Pheasants on the river, you know, without account. Slice in the mood picks the beam. Suddenly, according to Dima share as the water sank. Does it evaporate? — Alarmed, I wondered thought the one with the nose has not grown. «I ran back and forth, beckoning her throat ripped off — told with a broken view of Dima. — I could not figure out what was wrong, and he doubted that she would come. Cried my dog, I think. How to drink to give traction in Krymsk, look for the old owner. Lost all reason, I stand with bowed head. And laughter and sorrow. After standing for a bit, again tear the throat: «Share! Share! Share! «Dog strangely disappeared, vanished into thin air. I am turning back, Ah, but that is it! I stood dumbfounded, mouth open, eyes on the forehead climb: Frozen Slice of The Damned, staring at one point. Dog all it twisted, as if pulled together her cramp. «Not only as a neighbor poisoned — he flashed a guess. — And he made a reptile is out for revenge: recently finished his share of the chicken. » I to her: «What’s with you, share?» The moment I reached out to pat her, pheasant, rooster, created a sensation and zaporoshiv my eyes fluttered from her muzzle. I was almost frightened stutterer did not. «
We are Tolia almost burst out laughing. From Soroka described and transmitted by word of mouth tales ohotnytsky experts hunting literature, of course, remember the myth about the pointer, which is sinking, so froze over the woodcock, a hunter, a cop who lost in the woods, a year later discovered the skeleton of her dog. Skeleton statutory standing (!) Under a bush with pursed forelimb … It goes without saying that Dima for such books never hunted and hunting stories in camp he told no one …