I have a new collar for both boys. It has a tier of sonic beeps to connect with a command and a tier of shocks if they forget. One transmitter, 2 collars. I’ve been using it on Gambol all week with incredible results. When he hears “Gambol come beep” or even “Buddy come beep” he pivots back to me on a dime. It’s even a little difficult to get him to go out and run. There no gruff calling or loud deep hoarse voice required. I’ve only used the shock once when he took out after some deer and one other time. Yipe yipe yipe and he flew back to me. Buddy, on the other hand, was responding very well this morning but was a heap of quivering jelly on our afternoon outing. With no shocks. Today was his first day. He wouldn’t even go into the meadow this afternoon so we went thru the forest first and came back into the meadow. He was fine. No pulling. If I say “oops” he turns and comes back to me from the end of his leash. We even went down to the bears’ lair, a difficult and steep walk with a Mac truck pulling me. A huge miracle change. My elbows and shoulders love the new toy. I wasn’t planning on any off leash work for a while. I was just thrilled that we could loose-lead walk. THRILLED.
Then we were down at the camping site when a little old lady came walking thru the brush. What a surprise! She is the grandmother of the kid who found Gambol on his last run-about, and lives half way back to Julian. She owns the next property, was bow-hunting last night and lost her wounded deer at dusk. She was trying to track it. She assured me that no hunter would mistake a dog for a deer; they always identify their shot. She’s lived and hunted 45 years here(and on and on and on), thinks R&D are the meanest people on earth (and on and on and on) and none of her family would ever shoot a doe. Anyway, both dogs were wandering around, Gambol off and Buddy on leash, when LOL Brandt and I decided to go back to her property so she could show me her hunting stand, from which she’s seen Dad walk the dogs. Buddy burst thru my fingers, tearing a nail off, and was off, long leash dragging behind. I yelled and beeped and pressed buttons with no results and no yiping. Operator error perhaps. I drove around on the RTV but knew he was further away, so I got in the car and drove down a few driveways to Robison Rd where Mr Robison was working. He said his wife had seen a dog up the hill headed south and promised to call. I went to the house about 3 miles further south east where Buddy ended his last run-about but they weren’t home; drove into all the hollows along 220 and found that he could have gotten that far without going on the highway. That made me feel a little better about his last run-about. I delivered eggs a little further and got gas in Wingate. No Buddy.
It’s getting dark at 5:00 so I decided to walk Gambol and hope that Buddy isn’t in trouble and can find his way home as he did once. As we were walking back up the drive, Mr Robison called. Wahoo! Relief and frustration. Gambol and I picked him up, none the worse for wear. Dinner time, mom, feed me please. He had been caught on a branch by the knot in his leash and was barking for help. Good; at least he didn’t just lay down to die quietly. She said he was very nice, sat when she asked, and was very energetic ie pulled her all the way down their hill.
A bottle of wine for me tonight!
