Just watching Tucker switch his direction is a marvel, with hardly a pause in his gait. It is a lot like a wild steelhead propelling themselves from the tailout into the darkness of the pool with barely a movement of their tail.
If I can keep attention to the wind and cover, Tucker can find them (“them” loosely defined as breathing things like mice, song birds, grasshoppers, and sometimes just smelly things like coyote and deer leavings).
Sometimes it is just things.
And now and then it is a covey.
What surprises me is the extra gear I can find when he gets birdy as we are topping out of a climb. One of these days I hope I will be able to mount properly when I am winded.
It makes me think of watching my son playing soccer when his amazing dashes down the sideline and into the box sometimes don’t translate into a great shot.
Is it better to give everything to the climb or do you save something for the mount or the shot?
Or is there another gear I have yet to find?
For Tucker’s part, he looks back at me – apparently without judgement – and just wants to know that we will continue to climb – higher and further afield.