Watch It, Buster
Many would have been disappointed to have come as close as John did to winning Buster’s first derby stake, but John had always had a positive outlook on the world — especially when it came to dogs. And Buster — he was just happy to be riding in the back seat of the dually as they headed down the road to their training grounds after the trial. John, along with Bobby and Mack, now knew what they had. Buster had the potential to be a winner at the highest levels in the field trial world, and it had taken the calm and experienced hand of John to bring it out of him. He was just a derby and had a long way to go, but as they talked about his first performance, as Bobby drove across the prairie with the sinking sun lighting up the sky behind them, they were all excited.
Bobby looked at the old man who had been his mentor and teased, “I guess it was a good thing that nobody brought up that rule about old men not running dogs in field trials.”
John turned and looked at Buster sleeping soundly with his head on Mack’s lap in the back seat and then looked at Bobby, “You know, when your Momma pleaded with me to bring you up here the first time, she told me that if you ever sassed me, I had her permission to do whatever it took to keep you in line. And I don’t think there’s a statute of limitations on directions from your momma.”
In the back seat Mack was trying, not very successfully, to keep from laughing. In the part of the South where all three of them had been born and raised, the mothers rule the world and only the lowest of the low ever did anything against their momma’s wishes — if they could help themselves. Bobby just smiled at that memory. It felt good to be spending time with John and right to be able to give back to the old man who had given up his life as a dog trainer to be near his ailing wife.
And then there was the dog. Buster was becoming even more than Bobby had expected, but there was a real problem that he hadn’t shared with John and Mack. Bobby had been giving Buster’s owner regular reports on his progress during the summer and, despite what he had told John, the owner was not all that happy about paying Bobby and having “some old geezer” work his dog. Bobby tried to explain and finally had to offer to keep and run the dog for free as long as the owner agreed to pay the entry fees. When Bobby had called him to tell him about Buster’s first go, the man had failed to see the up side and berated Bobby for letting John lose the dog.
Bobby tried to explain that without John, Buster would not have been able to come so far. The man’s only point was that the dog still managed to lose the stake. He finished the conversation by telling Bobby that he was thinking of buying a dog that was on the string of one of Bobby’s rivals that had some impressive wins last year as a derby. Bobby and everyone else who had seen the dog go as a derby knew it wasn’t going to make it to the top of the all-age world. The dog could find and point birds and broke out early but lacked that hard to define element that all the best dogs seemed to have. It was a combination of desire and intelligence that made them better than most. Buster had it, but his owner couldn’t see it. But then Bobby couldn’t remember him riding more than a trial or two. Bobby hoped he bought the dog and became the other trainer’s headache, but at the same time he was worried about what would happen to Buster.
They had 10 days in camp to work the dogs before the next trial and they were up and at it each morning except for Sunday when John and Bobby drove into town. John went to church and Bobby drove over to the next town to go to the Super Wal-Mart to get the groceries for the week. Buster rode along with them. Mack used Sunday mornings to spend extra time cleaning the kennels and tending the horses. A string of six horses might seem like a lot to some folks but with three of them riding working dogs or at a field trial, they needed to keep them all in top shape. The horses’ feet were the weakest link and Mack checked them every day. He had been a farrier at one time and was spending this particular Sunday morning re-shoeing the horses.
Bobby picked up John at the small Baptist church in the center of town. On the ride back to the lease, he finally broached the topic of Buster, “I think we should buy Buster.”
John was startled, “That doesn’t seem right. Here you’ve got a dog that has an owner and you want to buy him. How many of the other dogs do you own?”
“None.”
“So, why do you want to own Buster?”
“Well, I’m not real sure the owner’s going to support him.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Bobby was quiet for a minute and then two. Finally, he glanced over at John who was one of the best dog and horse traders he had ever known. Bobby knew the first one to speak would end up on the short end of this conversation — had known how it would probably turn out when he started it. So he sucked it up and told John the whole deal.
When he finished, it was John’s turn to mull things over and this brought on another long silence. John looked straight ahead and spoke quietly but firmly, “Bobby, you got to do what’s right for your business first. You can’t buy a dog that you don’t have an owner for. So, if the man will sell the dog we better find Buster a new owner or let him go down the road.”
That was the harsh reality of it. Mack and Bobby and especially John had become attached to Buster. But training dogs and running them in field trials is a business and one of the cardinal sins of that business is owning a dog that beats your customers’ dogs. And Buster would do that, if not at the next trial, then at the one after that or the one after that. Bobby knew John was right but he didn’t want the old man to have to give up the dog. He had one last shot, “Why don’t you become Buster’s owner.”
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