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I don’t usually walk the dog in the evenings but it had been a frantic Monday afternoon and we both needed to get out.  The town was quiet and we walked down past the Abbey to the river.  Across the railway line, three teenagers were hanging out on the old platform – the only life it would see until the weekend.  We turned down the river bank and I let Basil off to hunt the river bank.  Sheer joy for him – hunting and water!
The night was closing in – it was that funny quarter-light where you know it won’t be long before you can’t see the path ahead of you.  So we turned back, Basil quite happily hunting back the way we’d come.
I’d not realised it until I’d passed him but Basil had dashed into the river and retrieved something.  I had no idea what but in he came obediently.  Now our small town is well known (somewhat ironically) for its ducks so I was preparing to dispatch something half dead…
He dropped this unknown object and it disappeared in the grass.  Odd.  No discernable shape or mark could be seen where he dropped it.  Looking closer I could see something small lying very flat on the grass.  I picked it up and realised he’d managed to perfectly retrieve a pair of mens pants. 
4 years of training.  Blood, lots of sweat and plenty of tears.  You might be forgiven that it wasn’t his finest hour…  However, finding those pants in the river in very little light with (let’s assume) no scent and then retrieving them almost perfectly.  I think we’ve come a long way!  He was very proud and in a certain kind of way so was I.

Has anything unexpected happened to you recently?  Any training successes stories?  Would love to hear them.


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