Boy was that hard (part 2, the water)

Ah, the water.

I sent Larsen for the blind.  He tentatively entered the muck, and circled.  I pushed him as hard as I could: "back!" "back!".  Larsen went into the water, verred to the end of the pond, nosed around, and popped a volunteer chukar.  All this time, I had been hacking at the whistle and yelling "back!".

He played with the bird, and brought it back.

We were sent to the back of the line to re-try the blind.

Upon our return, there was more hacking, and more "backing".  Very annoying to both of us.  Larsen ran off some tweety birds, then returned to the peninsula at top speed to pick up his bird.  Back he came, with a pretty messy retrieve.

Upon the water mark, he went out, then did not return directly to me.  He went to the nearby peninsula to take the land route back.  He went over to the area where he had rousted the volunteer, looking for another, then went into the water, swam to an island of grass, nosed around, picked up his bird, went ashore put his paw on the bird, plucked, then picked it up, and returned it to me for yet another fumbling handoff.

By this time man and beast were at the ends of their respective ropes.  I had hacked myself out, and he had peed in the grass to display his displeasure with my actions.  It was a battle of wills with two tired and irritated participants.  Larsen and I earned that ribbon in the sense of knowing now that we must return to the fun and camaraderie of the hunt.