I hunt a lot with my dogs and they MUST be in control at ALL times, especially in the field. They love fly fishing with me and very interested in fish that I reel in but when I say "BACK", they get the hell back ... or else. And "else" can be physically unpleasant. They have learned that from the time they first come in the house as a pup. But they get a helluva lot of loving too.
Looking at photos of your dog it is easy to tell it is spoiled. I'm guessing twenty pounds overweight. You're loving it to death.
Here's a Lab and fly fishing story. Several years ago (twelve to be exact), I hiked eight miles to my old Montana horse camp fishing spot. It's where a closed to fishing creek meets the wilderness river. Before leaving I picked up my 357 S&W that my brother has stored for me since I moved to Canada in '89. He also loaned me a can of bear spray. My three dogs went with me: Labs Pearl and Opal (both now gone) and French Brittany "Puppy" who was just a pup then. When we arrived at the river, I pulled my Orvis chest waders and boots from my daypack, put them on, and then started stringing up my fly rod. Dogs were told to sit next to me on the gravel bar and "Wait!" I was tying on a fly with my back to the wind and facing the dogs when I noticed Opal pearing around me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a grizzly sow with two cubs in front of her coming down the river towards us. I turned around, shouted, and waved my arms. But she could neither hear nor smell me with the wind blasting through that narrow canyon. Pointing my finger at the dogs: "STAY, gawdam you!" Well, okay Dad! And the bears kept getting closer. I threw off the wader belt, undid the suspenders, dropped the waders to ankles, and drew the 357. Put a round off her port bow. Yep, they heard that but couldn't make out where I was located so I picked up the white PVC sewer pipe rod tube and waved it in the air. Ah, she saw that. Gathered up her cubs, turned around, and ambled off downstream. No worries, she was a good wild bear. I fished till dusk and walked back out to the trailhead in the dark, three dogs at my heels all the way. Needless to say, they were not allowed in the water while I was fishing. Young Puppy required a swat to keep her off the fish when I was beaching them to unhook and release. She does have a fascination for fish!
And now I can tell my great-grandkids I once shot at a grizzly bear.
. Makes me feel like an old 19th century buffalo hunter.
