LiL’ Black Dog Tales
Now I’ ve been Involved with the APBT for nearly half my life, and believe them to be the superior breed of dog on the planet- bar none!! But with that being said, I’ ve had an ongoing love affair with a great many working breeds: sighthounds, protection shepherds, weight pullin’ American Bulldogs and scratchin hard catch dogs. But little did I know something in such a small package would weigh heavy on that statement. The Patterdale is a little black dog, full of life and fearing nothing. So, the story begins with the adventures of the lil‘ black dogs.
A great friend of mine, Martin,( who has some of the best working Patterdale Terriers I’ ve seen) had grown an interest in the APBT as a“ backer dog” to run with his terriers when things got too risky to send them in. We’ d spoken on many occasions about me getting a Patterdale as I’ d been hunting with him and had admired his packs working abilities.
One Wednesday morning I received a phone call from him.“ Hey bro, I have got something you want.““ Oh yeah” I replied.“ Yes, long story short, I got a hold of a male Patterdale from a buddy I’ ve hunted with who just started a new job and is unable to hunt him as much as he needs to be, so he’ s yours if ya want him!” I could hardly believe my ears!!!“ I’ ll take him!!”. So, the deal was made and date set. The following Saturday morning my reluctant wife and I loaded up in the truck and headed 1.5-hour drive town to SLC to pick up my new Patterdale, the whole drive down my wife was on my case about getting another dog. I would
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Raw Power’ s Wyatt, Enjoin the Ride
answer back trying to contain my excitement“ Babe he’ ll be awesome, I can feel it.“
We finally arrive at our arranged meeting spot, I hopped out the truck hardly taking time to stop the truck all the way.“ Where is he?” I questioned. Martin drops the tailgate of his truck, and there in a tiny crate sat an eager lil’ shiny black dog; Wyatt! I flipped open the crate door and snapped the lead on and took a walk around the parking lot giving him a good lookin over,“ Damn dude, he looks like a mini APBT” I remember spoutin off.
The next
few moments Martin was filling me in on what this lil‘ guy had accomplished thus far, and still was a green dog. Now Wyatt wasn’ t a pup but a full-grown dog about 1.5 years old, and he had a good catch under his belt in a fight with a coon inside a culvert, until he was pulled out. We soon loaded up the truck bound for home. Later that night he was bathed and set loose to run the house so he and I could bond. The wife started to take a likin to him“ Hell; he ain’ t half bad, he even knows tricks” as he’ s giving his paw for a shake.
The next few weeks were a lot of bonding and conditioning, prepping him for the upcoming weekends that were callin’ our name.
On a Friday afternoon after a long day at work I raced home and started my preparations for that night’ s hunt. What seemed like forever before the sun finally rested behind the snow capped mountains. Wyatt!! I called out“ It’ s time, let’ s go get something to rag on!” With a kiss to the lady;