Like most red blooded men, a gentleman shares a special bond with his hunting dog. When he doesn’t spend weekends in the bar, occupied with the drinking duties of a multi-day bender, a gentleman likes to get out of dodge and head for the hills. Firing up his sporty British racing coup, a gentleman and his K9 amigo bomb out of the city and toward his country estate, where they’ll enjoy a weekend of vigorous hunting ensemble. With scent on his snout and perhaps a little booze on his tongue (courtesy of the gentleman no less), the pooch will track down fox holes, duck fences so that the duo may poach their neighbor’s property and fetch birds the gentleman gracefully plucked from the sky with his 12-gauge. By day’s end, the two will celebrate the great hunt with many a drink and perhaps a wondrous slumber in the crisp linens of a local hotel. In the event that the gentleman’s pooch is unwelcome in one of the post hunt celebratory spots, be it at the local watering hole or the nearby hotel, the crafty and resourceful gentleman will go to great lengths to ensure his four-legged friend be treated to identical luxuries. While some might argue that such extreme measures are unnecessary, it’s important to remember that a gentleman’s dog is not some filthy mongrel, nor should it be treated as such.

To: The Lads
From: Dog Whisperer

Subject: Buddy, The Seeing Eye Dog

So fellas, I take my city slicker Chicagoan friend, Greg*, hunting with Tom* and I down in Refugio, Texas this weekend. my pooch “Buddy” was of course in tow. Our plans change drastically to include going out in Austin on Saturday night. So after hunting, we load up and head to Austin where Greg’s* friend had booked us a room at the swanky Stephen F. Austin. Many beers later we realized we had a problem with Buddy and what to do with him. I don’t know why it took us that long to think about it, perhaps because we had been drinking non-stop with zero sleep. So we call the SFA:

Greg*: Do you allow pets?
Clerk: Absolutely not, sir
Greg*: Oh, that’s too bad because my brother Dog Whisperer* and I are surprising our other brother who already booked a room there, and Dog Whisperer* is “visually impaired” and requires the use of a seeing eye dog.
C: oh well in that case sir, we can certainly make an exception, and we’ll move you to a handicap room

Booyah. So the rest is in the details and execution. Naturally we stop at a bar to get the plan hatched. I knew i had all necessary props: Bill Dance shades, rope with which to fashion crude harness for Buddy, a cattle prod that looks just like a proper blind man stick, and really big balls.  We cruise to the parking garage and get buddy outfitted. Apparently I should have been cast in the movie “Ray” cuz i play a helluva blind man. Greg* and I make our grand entrance and at first Buddy is exhibiting a little stage fright with all the bright lights and the people staring at him. People were trying to pet him and we’re like, “Sir, you try not to love on these dogs too much, they’ve got a job to do.” the harness held up well though and i whispered under my breath for Buddy to lock it up. He pulled it together and we made it to the elevator. We told them he was in training. in and out with him that night and Sunday moring worked like clock work. I would actually close my eyes for large portions of the journey and shuffle timidly down steps so it looked real. attached are some pictures in front of the huge Christmas tree in the lobby….

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