Services

Riversides Hunter Hudson, SH
"Hudson"
9/30/98 - 2/28/11

A Good Good-bye

Sometimes, it’s the little things that change our lives. A visit to
family resulting in the purchase of a neighbor’s chocolate lab
puppy in 1998 ultimately rocked our world. A nothing pedigree, no
health clearances, the neighbors owned both parents, chocolate
sire to yellow dam. We paid our $250 for first pick of the boys and
off we went with our first “purebred” Lab. Wolters’ Water Dog was
my only training guide that first year. I bought an e-collar but
returned it, could not make myself put it on my dog after watching
the instructional video that came with it. We made every classic
mistake one could make but somehow ended up with a gorgeous,
talented, chocolate dog that was character personified. I met a pro
trainer who put Hudson through his basics and taught me to use
an e-collar. I have four e-collars now, after learning it isn't the collar
but the handler that makes the difference. The patience that man
had and a friend to this day. I started working with his training
group, totally out of my depth. I’d never shot a gun, hated them
actually, though now I've gotten a new firearm of some sort for my
last three birthdays. Marks, blinds, blinking, no-gos, force-fetch,
collar-condition, a new language to learn. My first time with the
group, getting Hudson off the trainer’s truck, he of course dropping
the first retrieve at my feet. I was told to pinch his ear and tell him
fetch. Not wanting to admit I didn’t know what an ear pinch was, I
just sort of grabbed the top of his ear, the trainer said other side,
so I grabbed the other ear instead. God bless those guys for
hiding their laughter. I ran my first Hunt Test and to my
mortification, wiped out on the very first bird, at a Junior no less, it
was a chukar and neither of us even knew what one was. But, we
were hooked. Hudson went on to pass four Juniors in a row, then
earned his Senior. Gradually, the Caribbean vacations and golf
weekends gave way to dog training, more dogs joined us,
pedigrees got fancier. I left my job and went full-time dog. House
was downsized so we could have more training land and more
time to train, the new car every other year evolved into whatever
vehicle would hold the most dog crates and be driven til the
wheels fell off. Status symbols and manicured lawns traded for
wingers and an ATV. Gone were shoes with high heels and most
clothes that couldn’t be worn in the field. I still have some of the
office suits and heels in the closet, they make me laugh that I ever
thought they were important. Training gear dominates wish lists, a
new winger ranks higher than a pair of diamond earrings.
Furniture is judged by how it will hold up to the dogs. Going for a
ride means scouting new training land, county plat books are part
of the library and thank heavens for Google Earth. Acquaintances
are vetted to see how much land they might have access to and if
they have training water, they are courted like royalty. Through it all,
Hudson reigned. He didn’t know or care about his nothing
background and that all the other dogs that came after had better
paper or more ribbons. He was top dog and no one was allowed
to ever treat him otherwise. He rode shotgun for a couple hundred
thousand miles with me. He flushed birds from Michigan to
Montana, hated wild turkeys with a passion after one raked his
nose, loved kids with an equal passion. He was an ambassador
for his breed, visiting the nursing home right up until his last few
months, placing his big old head, graying as theirs, in any lap that
needed it. He retrieved my son’s first shot birds, he was there for
half my son’s life and over half of my marriage, he helped me find
my place in the world that no schooling ever did and no dog, no
titles will ever move him from the top spot, it’s all his always. We
had to let him go this morning, we weren’t ready but it was time
and it was the least we owed him, a good goodbye. We have him
in his daughter and his grandson and his memories that fill our
house and our lives and while it makes tears now, we don’t wish it
to hurt any less, he was worth every bit of it and so much more.
See you around the bend, big boy, Joker’s waiting for you.