"People who claim to own "fishing dogs" are all blinded by love. There's no such thing as a good fishing dog."
- John Gierach
|Ripley, meet Brown|
Today, I took Ripley fishing for the first time. She'd been in the house for a few days and was a bit stir crazy so she got a walk and I got to fish. Sort of.
I couldn't fish the spot that I wanted to fish. That spot requires a walk across a field liberally strewn with poison ivy. I'm allergic as hell and didn't want my dog covered in the stuff.
So, we hiked a bit and fished a small pool that's been good in the past.
Ants now look like food to trout because I brought one to hand on a black ant on the second cast. Of course, the next thirty casts yielded nothing. So maybe it was just a fluke. But it should be ant and hopper time very soon.
Ripley was totally disinterested in the splashy fight and even when I brought the fish to hand she still wasn't interested all that much. I had to call her over for a look.
As far as a fishing dog, she wasn't too bad. She did get in the water briefly, but not where I was fishing. Mostly she just hung around staring at me like I was an idiot waving a stick around in the air instead of throwing it so she could retrieve it.