The best Fishin' Dawg ever

I remember after a spring weekend, before Julie had come up for the summer, somebody asked what I did on my days off?  

fishing the Laramie river in Wyoming

That's easy, I went fishing of course. Where? in the water. did you go alone? no, with Maggie.  Who is Maggie?  She is my friend.   Oh, she's your dog!  Shhh. she'll hear you. and yes, Maggie is our dog.  you have probably seen her in most of these posts (black dog, white paw, usually has a stick nearby), next to maybe beer we take more pictures of her than anything. 

Sticks are Maggies' bag!

While I will admit, I do enjoy answering questions in a way that tends to confuse some people (I think it comes from my years of serving drinks to Canadian golfers), I truly don't feel as if I am fishing alone when I'm with Maggie, AKA the Pooper.

We have had so many adventures together I could fill up a good deal more than space than I have here. One of my favorites was: while fishing the South Fork of the Flathead, I was wading in the middle of the river, and all of a sudden I hear a big commotion coming up behind me. I turn around and see a big ole moose heading my way, with Maggie in hot pursuit. The moose sees me and decides he would be better off on the other side, so he turns 90 degrees and starts across the river, thinking he could shake her from his heels. Not so fast, Maggie without missing a step launches into the river in hot pursuit, and would have kept going except I yelled and told her "leave that darn moose alone".  Only Maggie knows what she would have done with him when she caught him.

Maggie directs the way down the South Fork of the Flathead

Our faithful hound unflinchingly guards our dearest possession.......... The Beer!

When Maggie was new to the fishing game, we went on a road trip to go fish the Upper Sacramento River, In California. I remember when I showed up my friend Ben eyed Maggie,  and said,  "there's two kind of fishing dogs, what kind are you?"

Happy as a clam in "her" seat

romping on the North Platte....... look out for the steaming bear poop!

 Over the years she has proven over and over she's the good kind of fishing dog.  Give her a seat of her own in the raft and she will be content all day.  From swimming through the whitewater on the Blackfoot, to cowering during a biblical sized thunderstorm on the Big Hole she has definitely  proven over and over on the rivers of Montana (and just about any other western state you can name) that she is the GOOD kind of fishin dawg. 

From the forests........

                           to the mountains............

to the great deserts...................

and from sea to shining sea........

There may never be a finer fishing dog than the Pooper!

I always have bear hugs for the pooper.

"Friends for life"   Camping with Maggie and Annie 

"fishing" on the Thompson

where's Maggie?

The end