So it took me a little while to sit back down and make myself write another post, but I started this blog and I need to keep going with it. So today we will talk about TomBoy.

When you think of a stubborn little girl with a mind of her own that gives absolutely zero fucks – you have TomBoy.

She was the pick female out of Buffy’s first litter. From the beginning we knew she was a little, well, different. Not necessarily in a bad way – she just had her own way about her. She was like any other little puppy – sociable, played with her littermates, she liked her birds, like harassing the older dogs, did normal puppy stuff. What always stuck out to me about her as a puppy was that she was the only one that was also perfectly comfortable going off by herself to a corner of the yard and just being by herself. She just went over there to hang. Didn’t need anybody.

It’s one thing I liked about her, actually. She was a sweet pup, but she wasn’t at all dependent on anyone else. That turned out to be a characteristic of hers right up until present day. At our first house, she routinely would go upstairs and lay on the bed, by herself, all night long. Everyone else had to be in the room with us – typical velcro Vizslas. Not TomBoy. She’s always been comfortable in her own skin.

In fact – if she’s puppying up to you and being sweet, the odds are good that she’s up to something. She wants food, or she wants to … OK, she wants food. That’s about it.

Starting her out as a bird dog, I won’t lie – she was an absolutely incorrigible bitch. She did her own thing, didn’t want to listen, and if she managed to catch a bird – forget it. She was going to run around the rest of the day with it in her mouth and there was no way in hell she was going to let you catch her. She was even smart enough to hide behind trees so I couldn’t see her when I was trying to get her back.

Little bitch.

You’d never expect it, but she ended up blossoming into a fantastic gun dog; probably the best field trial dog I’ve trained, and second only to Shooter when it came to a personal hunting dog.

She was a finished field champion by 4 years of age, and I competed with her for another 7 years after that. That little girl and I covered a lot of ground together. It was a sad day when it came time to retire her. I still miss not loading her up when I head out for the weekend.

She lives with my ex now, along with her son, Ricky Bobby. Just as feisty as ever, and doing really well for a 15 year old! She’s enjoying life, but I miss having her ornery, sassy little self around on a daily basis. One of the shitty parts of getting divorced.

TomBoy attempting her Jedi Mind Trick stare – “You will give me a treat”

I look forward to telling y’all about my trip a few years ago to South Dakota with TB, Patriot, and Ricky Bobby. They done me proud. 🙂

Until Next Time.