>Smoke, Labrador Retriever
>By Bill Fenimore, Utah
>
>We put Smoke, our black lab, down in January 2004. He was just shy of his
>14th birthday. He hunted 12 years with my son, Billy, and me, on his last
>hunt, he retrieved 13 ducks, 2 geese and a swan! One of the geese was only
>winged and Smoke found it hiding in the cattails and salt grass. We never
>would have found either of them without him.
>
> He was a great hunting dog and companion. Billy came of age during
>Smoke's training. It was Billy's responsibility to feed, care and train
>Smoke, and he handled him in the AKC field trials and AKC hunt tests when
>Smoke competed. Those experiences brought Billy into his own. It enabled my
>son to shed his shyness (with knees knocking occasionally) and learn to
>accept losing, along with winning. Smoke won his AKC Junior, Senior and
>Master Hunter titles.
>
> We were better hunters because of Smoke. He often spotted the
>birds before we did. Smoke would raise his ears and cock his head skyward
>as his eyes followed the ducks, geese or swans coming into the dekes. He
>would swim tirelessly after the birds we downed, occasionally breaking ice
>to do so. Smoke loved to hunt.
>
> As we all know, you train a retriever, you use certain specific
>commands so that he knows what you want him to do. "Mark" is the command I
>use to alert the dog to watch the birds as we prepare to shoot. And like
>most people, I use the dog's name to signal him into action for the
>retrieve.
>
> Dick Windward, my veterinarian buddy, put Smoke down for us. Dick
>knew Smoke throughout his life, had treated him and hunted with him. We
>didn't look forward to this experience, but it was necessary so that Smoke
>would not suffer from the cancer that had overtaken him. It was difficult
>for my young granddaughter, Payton, to understand when I answered her
>question of why.
>
> Billy carried Smoke into Dick's operating room and gently laid him
>on the table. I had brought a wing from a pintail drake that I had been
>saving to mount. It was a remarkably beautiful, fully plumaged, mature
>bird. Ironically, it was the last duck that Smoke had retrieved on his last
>hunt, but this bird would serve a better purpose now. As Dick began to
>insert the syringe, I placed the pintail wing over Smoke's nose and eyes,
>bent down along side, and whispered, "Mark." Smoke's ears rose. He inhaled
>the pintail's scent as Dick began the injection. "Smoke," I whispered,
>releasing him.
>
> Where the geese fly over each spring and fall, we buried Smoke,
>cradled in my old hunting parka, with his Master Hunter ribbon, training
>whistle, a decoy, duck call and a few shells.
>
