A Hunt in the Cattails

The ground was white with frost when I climbed out of the truck. It almost looked as if it had snowed.

In an hour, however, it would be gone, the ground bare and dry again under another cloudless sky.

Dot sat patiently as I fastened the e-collar around her neck. Ace wandered to the other side of the truck, lifting his leg on the tire.

I tested the beep on the collar and Dot squealed and started hoovering the grass at the edge of the cattails. Her attention was only a button away. Ace, deaf and a bit unsteady on his feet, required overly dramatic arm waving on my part to stay in the game.

We...