MY YELLER DOG

   My yeller dog is yeller on the outside and yeller on the inside. My yeller dog gets spooked by his own shadow. Japanese beetles and lady bugs scare him. Wind and clouds scare him. Most everything scares him. (There’s an exception I can tell you about later.)

   Every time he sees a neighborhood cat on the prowl, he points--lifts his right paw, stretches his tail out--and then my very strange yeller dog quacks like a duck. That’s right, quacks! Unbelievable, isn’t it? I hear it so often that I’m used to it.

   Most cats are surprised and curious when they hear him quack. They stand their ground, showing teeth and hissing back. My dog sees the cat's response and predictably panics. Disgusting, isn’t it? Certainly not the behavior to expect from a normal dog. No matter. I sometimes get annoyed, but I love my strange yeller dog all the same.

   I took my yeller dog to a vet a few years ago. Asked the vet to fix my dog’s vocal cords. He examined the dog and said he couldn’t find a physical cause for the strange problem. He suggested that it was psychological. He recommended a psychiatrist.

   So I took my yeller dog to a psychiatrist. After a lecture about co-dependency, he gave both of us a bunch of pills. I said, “How are these pills going to help?” He said, “There’s pills for everything. If these don’t work, I’ll give you and your dog different pills until we find the right pills and the right cure.” He gave us different pills over time. I tried feeding my dog different dog food, too. My dog got Montezuma’s revenge and messed up the house. Put him back on Hill’s real quick.

   After two years taking advice and taking various pills provided by our psychiatrist, my yeller dog still quacks, and I feel just awful.

   It’s down and out embarrassing to take my yeller dog out for a walk and discover most of those tree-hugging, bushy-tailed squirrels are chattering and laughing about him whenever they hear him quack. If he finds and chases a freshman squirrel that’s afraid of him, only because he’s a dog, that squirrel will inevitably find safety in a nearby tree. It seems my yeller dog always gets a late start, or doesn’t have a clear sense of direction.

   I talked to my neighbor about it and he tells me that my yeller dog lacks timing and can’t measure distance. He recommended a GPS device, ready on talk mode, but I’ll be damned if I’ll take it out of my truck and put it on my dog’s collar. I need it for myself. Besides, I would have to add a battery pack and adding that weight around my dog’s neck might choke him to death.

   Remember how I told you there was an exception and I would tell you about it later? Well, now, I suppose, is the best time to mention it. While it’s true that my yeller dog is generally afraid of most everything he encounters, it seems that God blessed him with a handicap which has a special talent attached. It seems my yeller dog is a quacking Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde monster around ducks.

   Leave your guns and ammunition at home, boys. You don’t need a gun when you go out duck hunting with my yeller dog. He starts quacking in the fields and marshes and makes ducks think he’s one of them. He chases and kills ducks like a tree-cutting harvesting machine. He’s a ravishing grabber of all things duck. He catches ducks on the ground, in the water, and often by leaping high in the air as they try to fly away. Let me tell you, that yeller dog would be downright dangerous if he had wings.

   Years ago I mentioned my yeller dog’s aggressive behavior around all things duck to our psychiatrist. Dr. Phineas Shrink (not his real name) got as confused as everyone else, and he didn’t offer a clear explanation. He admitted that it’s normal behavior for a bird dog, but claimed that my yeller dog is not a bird dog. I don’t have a certificate to prove otherwise. When I took that yeller dog into my house, he was a sulking, shivering runaway off the street.

   The first time I took that yeller dog out for a duck hunt, I did it alone without companions. I wanted to avoid embarrassment. Not anymore. No sir! I have since told all my friends about his unique hunting skill, and now the Knights of Columbus and Odd Fellows join us on our hunt every fall.

   I don’t like to brag but one of the hunters told me privately that it was great having my quacking yeller dog do all the hunting and retrieving, while serious hunters stay in a stove-heated camouflaged shelter with TV, fridge and plenty of cold beer and pretzels. That’s the kind of endorsement that makes a person feel proud. Another guy said I ought to take my dog to Hollywood and get on one of those special reality TV shows. I talked it over with my yeller dog and we both agree we don’t cherish the thought of all that publicity. You know, we don’t need the money. The government takes good care of us.