Top_Heavy's World

She burst into tears, her hands now empty, the wind finally too much for her 8 year old's strength. "DADDY!" was her scream, the tears now dripping down her cheeks. She tried to run, her youth was full of hope. I had been there before, it was lost, beyond my control, soon it would be ripped and ruined and our day would be over. I hesitated a second, something must be done, this can't be. "Here" was my command, a quick tap on my right leg set the stage. With hand extended, fingers tight, I pointed the path. The muscles coiled, she slightly crouched, anxious for the release. "Fetch!" The command, the sound she lived to here. Her body gained speed, the ground slightly tearing as her feet sought grip. Her eyes wide, wild with excitement, yet still with focus. She raced by the little girl standing in bewilderment. The motion so smooth, fluid almost. The sheen of the perfect black hair, almost making her look metalic in the sun. I watched with little hope as her foe skipped and bounced across the mowed field. The speed was too much, she couldn't get to it in time... could she? My hope grew quickly as I watched her gaining, her joy of purpose showing. She was gaining, faster and faster, the distance still not showing in her strides, all out speed is awe inpiring. As she neared the fence I grew nervous, she couldn't possibly slip between the wires at this speed, she would surely get caught on the tiny barbs that kept the cows off the fence. Those tiny barbs sharp enough to pierce the skin and hold. A flash of stiches and blood flashed through my mind... Where was my whistle, she is too far to hear my yell... why did I send her without having my whistle? One blast from that tiny whistle, even at that speed and distance, and she would have abandonded her mission. She would have stopped, turned, and sat, awaiting her next command. A simple hand motion for direction and 2 short tones and she would have been off again, in the direction required. Even at that range she would have laid down, with a single tone, a dropped hand and crouching motion from me. I know this due to years of field hunting together, her ability far beyond even mine. She sensed the fence, the urgency growing, she found a small burst of speed. With a drop of her head, mouth open wide, she grabbed it. Her quarry firmly in her jaws for the ride back to me. The kite was no longer flailing back and forth, barely able to keep itself aloft. With the string taut it was full of the breeze and scrambled for height. The pull that kite must have had was barely noticable, she kept her head straight as she trotted back to me. My daughter laughed with excitement as her toy was returned, the tears now a thing of the past.
D had once again been there to do as asked. She had proven so many times that she was special, this time it was for Korin. She listened to me, but she took the spool of line to the outstrethced hands of a thankful little girl. She waited until Korin had a grasp before letting go, she looked at me and wagged her tail. The pats, rubs and attention D received from that little girl were a reward worth running for. Sometimes, when someone tells you to "go fly a kite" it isn't a bad thing! D would have done anything for me, and I felt the same... there was a time when I would have waded thru 4' deep cow feces to save her... but that is a story yet to be told!