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That Magic Number 4 ... © 2003 by Ed Presnall 
Today was the day. I could feel it as I made the draw for the track. Easter Sunday, would be the day of his resurrection too. I was focused on the job at hand as we walked to the start flag. He spied a squirrel, a blowing paper cup and a child playing with a ball … ummm, time to get him focused too. Downing at the start he nuzzled the cloth glove. We prepared as we had done so many times in the past, one step at a time. Down at the start, hook the lead on the harness, calming thoughts a few deep breaths to calm my mind and the command for him to Track! He circled in the gusting wind. Identifying the soft thread of the scent, now almost five hours old, he started across the lawn. Showing me his almost trademark “weave pole” motion as he placed his feet six inches to the left and then six inches to the right of the track. I followed him across the lawn, through a mulch planting area. A few yards farther and we passed the shelter of the building we had been paralleling. The wind howled off of the parking lot, through the trees and through the low area in front of us. He shifted his tracking style and opened his casting a few yards. Turning right he worked between trees, mulch beds and picnic tables towards a small parking lot. At the edge of the parking are he searched for the exact spot and carefully crossed the forty yards of asphalt. His body snapped right and left, his tail almost tingling as he shouted “article” to me. We worked the edge of the parking area and around another mulch area. With each step away from the parking area his indication of the proximity of the article became stronger. A yard or two farther and he almost leaped the mulch bed to reach the plastic article in the grass. 
Restarting, he worked intently towards a very large parking lot. Seventy plus yards of grass and forty yards across the asphalt and he stopped, indicating a corner. Checking right, then left, then circling in the blowing wind he selected right and we began a one hundred and twenty yard treck across the parking lot. The wind blew him slightly off line and it took several minutes of working on the grass edge of the lot to identify the track layer’s exact exit point, only nine or ten yards away from where he exited the lot.Working behind a building, between the building and an large electrical box and behind a large brick enclosed dumpster area we traveled downhill between two of the college residency halls. Almost immediately he indicated another article was present. He searched and searched, never getting more than a few yards off track. Checking the side of one building, along a hedge, under the low-hanging branches of a pine and along flower beds. Finally, near the intersection of six sidewalks he found a metal switch plate. Restarting, he worked down a broad sidewalk between two buildings towards a street. Near the street the sidewalk intersected another sidewalk paralleling the street and another residency hall. He worked the front door area of the building and along the curb of the street searching for the corner and the new direction of the track. Looking up he saw a friend drive into the parking area across the street. I cringed as he stepped into the street. He crossed and wagged his tail at the person in the car. I gently informed him it was time to return to work. Re-crossing the street he worked between the sidewalk and the building. Again he started indicating an article and my heart skipped a beat. Swirling winds seemed to confuse him as to the direction of the article. He worked near the building, slipped over to the sidewalk and back, slowly working his way along the building. After sixty yards he downed at a square of leather with the magical #4 taped to it. I reached down to pet him and he leaped into my arms. He had worked consistently for over an hour through standing water, mud and blustery winds. Although he was not as crisp as he was a year ago, his work ethics and dedication to the track was evident to everyone. His resurrection was complete and for the first time in the sport a dog had earned two VST titles. Truly he is a Champion Tracker now. As a point of trivia, Dillon, CT Wildfire Smoking Gun NA, NAJ, AAD, FDX, CGC is affectionately called the Devil Dog, due to his intensity and piercing eyes. On Easter Sunday he marched 666 yards, the mark of the beast, to his title. It seemed like a very fitting distance for this Border Collie to go.  CT WILDFIRE SMOKING GUN NA, NAJ, AAD, FDX, CGC Irish Water Spaniel Club of America 1st National VST Test University of Wisconsin at Whitewater April 20, 2003 Judges: Ev & Anne Campbell Tracklayer: Barb Heine |
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