The dog days of July and August are a misnomer. Hunting dogs need action, but it’s too hot for exercise. Neither old Drake nor young Lady can afford to vegetate now. Hunting season is just around the corner. In a month or two they’ll launch all-out assaults on fields and meadows, woods and waters. How do you get them in shape for that without killing them?
We’ve all been there. Opening day. The sun is shining, birds are calling and our over-eager dogs are racing through the cover, thicket to thicket, horizon to horizon, sucking air, searching for scent. They point. They flush. They fetch. They collapse. It’s not even noon and they act as if they’re on their last legs because—they are.