A what?

Yeah, I know. I get that all the time. I’m a German-bred versatile hunting dog—not exactly common around here—so I don’t blame you for not knowing. And don’t expect to see me on the cover of Dog World or the Dr. Foster’s catalog either. Those covers are always reserved for the so-called “K9 Supreme Race”… the Labs.

Ha! Yeah, right. Whatever. Or as my ancestors would say, Vat eber.

Anyway—enough about me. I’m “writing” this article… well, not really writing it, because I’m a dog and can’t type. I’m dictating it to a friend who’s putting pen to paper for me.

My story started last August—about six months ago, for those who don’t do math. My dad began adding a new game to the same boring obedience exercises he always makes me do.

Little does he know that when he puts me on a sit-stay, turns his back, and walks away… I always move just a little. Then I crack up inside because he has no idea. I love messing with him.

After a while, he started taking me to different places and introducing me to all these people who absolutely love fussing over me. At first glance, most of them probably think, “What an ugly dog!” But I like to think of myself as the handsomest of all ugly dogs—Queen of the Pigs, if you will.

The people in this club are incredibly supportive of one another. They all care about putting together the greatest hide-and-seek game ever. We always arrive early to a predetermined location. Once everyone shows up, the guy in charge calls a huddle with all the folks wearing the same government-looking uniforms—just guessing. Then they all disappear into the woods. All us dogs stay in our vehicles until it’s our turn to play.

It turns out the people wandering off into the woods are actually hiding so we can find them. OMG… how cool is that?

Anyway—yes, I know I start a lot of sentences with “anyway,” but that’s just so Dad doesn’t figure out I’m actually smarter than he is. Imagine if I had opened with “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”—beats the Dickens out of me what he’d do.

There is one part of the group that really concerns me: the guys sitting around this altar with antennas, constantly talking into some big speaker thing that follows us everywhere. You can’t shake these guys. When Dad checks in with them, they repeat everything he says. Seriously? Coming from Germany, it gives me creepy flashback nightmares.

Another thing I’ve noticed is that we never actually meet the other dogs, but I can hear them. Their cries sound like, “Goose, I want you in the worst way!” At least, that’s what it sounds like to me. Makes me want to puff out my chest, pull up on all those fine ladies and say, “What’s up, ladies? Goose here.”

Anyway—we get to search in buildings, under bleachers, in big concrete tunnels, open fields, wooded areas… man, it’s awesome.

No matter how difficult the group tries to make things, this new game is incredible. I get to run full speed through the woods—usually at night—wearing a vest with lights, looking for some cold sap who’s hiding with my toys and cheering like paparazzi when I find them. They go nuts celebrating, and I get to play tug and retrieve. What more could a Drahthaar possibly want?

I hope you enjoyed my article and share it with others so more dogs get the chance to play this amazing game of hide-and-seek.

For any questions, don’t hesitate to contact Jorge A. Fleming with K9-Training Specialist, LLC in Maryland at 301-980-2204 or through our contact form.