fishydreams

We have this new dog. Her name is Sable. A young black labrador, she is sleeping at my feet right now. I think that I knackered her out when we went fishing today.

I have always wanted to have a “fishing” dog like my brother Sean´s dog Meg, who is chilled and will sit happily in a drifting boat while he and Mark McCann shoot the breeze for hours on Lough Arrow. Here in Spain we have had dogs for years and we have tramped the campo trails together daily. But no dog so far has had the discipline and temperament to be a fishing dog. My hope was that Sable might step up.

Sable started life as one of a litter of puppies somewhere abandoned and she had been living alone in a derelict house before kind hearted folk intervened, first by leaving food for her, and then taking her in. The people who last owned her were very kind and looked after her very well, but their circumstances changed in such a way as they could not continue to keep her and, when they put the details on Facebook, Trinny and I got in touch.

She has settled here very well. We walk for an hour in the very early hours and then late in the evening and it was during a recent walk that it occurred to me that, if I were to take her fishing, she would be fine company. I figured she would not disappear chasing some rabbit or whatever because, when she is called, she comes and she always likes to have me in her view even when taken off the leash and free to explore.

The reservoir at El Chorro was going to be our maiden outing. I had it in mind to head off yesterday morning but Trinny pointed out that I should have some way of ensuring she was going to be able to travel safely and that we ought to get suitably kitted out for transporting her. So the fishing trip to was shelved and, instead, I went off to the shops to pick up what I needed to have her safely strapped into the car.

I nearly had a run in with the cops a few years ago when I collected Paris, our other dog, also a black labrador, from a friend who was unable to care for her. I put her in the boot of the car but, half way home, she leapt out and bounded over the rear passenger seat before proceeding to sit next to me in the front passenger seat looking out the window. She had no sooner pulled off that little stunt than we saw a police car heading towards us in the distance. I realised that having this unsecured dog was likely to result in a fine. At that moment Paris obligingly settled down in the front passenger well, out of sight and there she stayed until just after the police had passed. Then she was back up again looking at the row after row of olive trees that we were passing.

In order to secure the new fishing dog I was recommended a harness which could be clipped into a short lead which was buckled into the seat belt fastening. The harness is a bit big for her but she will grow into it soon. On the side is the brand “Xtreme Dog.” We were so taken by the name of this product that we can see “extreme dog” as the new moniker for Sable herself. The dog in her harness has become something of a celebrity figure in the family Whatsapp goup and the general consensus is that that she is way cooler than me. Who am I to argue?

So how did the fishing go?

Not so great to be honest. Sable was having so much fun that stalking was pretty much impossible. As I walked along the rocky shore looking for carp in the shallows, she just charged along in the creating mayhem, both in the water and out. That was when she wasn´t digging herself into the mud. Every carp in the vicinity knew we were around and drifted off into the deeps and out of range. I caught nothing but, it has to be said, in her quieter moments, I did have a chance at a couple of fish but nothing came of it. I´m inclined to consider such adventures was dog walks in beautiful places with the outside chance of catching a fish. This small adjustment to my philosophical outlook will surely make the lost opportunities to catch fish a little easier to come to terms with.

It is lovely to have a fishing dog. Even if the fishing becomes a bit tougher. Hopefully she will get a little less crazy when she is older. In the meantime, the carp that occasionally put in an appearance in the margins of El Chorro will have one less thing to worry about.