City hunter’s dog: reflections of a forced idler

Oh, and it’s a thankless business to compare any of the hunting dogs with other breeds. I did not intend to do this, if not for the case: with a difference of a few days, I lost a one-year-old wolf cub, and I myself received a severe injury that completely deprived me of mobility. So there was time for reflection, and then a reason.

Just after a week of forced idleness, a brown Dachshund appeared in the apartment-a three-year-old, the first bitch in my life. Having heard about the double trouble, a familiar breeder was blessed with a gift (once with one of her Pets, who later became the ancestor of the line, we reached high titles among juniors, we managed to fight off the further path in this direction-well, not mine). Continue reading →