Tessa, the Lizard Hunter

GOLDEN GAZETTE - By Lorilynn Bowles

Every Golden Retriever seems to have a special talent.  Our Rudy is a champion Speed Digger.  He can move buckets of earth in seconds.  Millie is a Nylabone Inventory Control Specialist.  She gathers all the Nylabones, and only the Nylabones, into a pile.  She may pick one to chew, but quite often she merely contemplates their numbers.  Tessa is clever at a number of things, but her most surprising skill, honed over years of practice, is Lizard Hunting.
To successfully capture a lizard takes strategy and stealth -- not two traits normally attributed to Golden Retrievers.  Tessa’s big strength is that she is “doggedly” determined.  When she puts her mind to something, she usually succeeds.  Tess came to live with us when she was five. She had been a breeder in a puppy mill and no longer a profitable commodity.  Fortunately, the Rescue saved her.  She had never known the pleasure of a large backyard and took to it like a fish to water.  Fearless, feisty and curious, she spent hours exploring every nook and cranny.  She first sighted one of the common garden lizards sunning itself on a block wall.  Full speed, she raced to investigate.  The lizard, seeing her approach, shot over the wall. That moment set her on a mission more unlikely than King Arthur’s quest of the Holy Grail. Tessa was determined to catch a lizard!
Thus started years of one of the most dedicated, self-training programs ever set upon.  Tessa worked out fairly quickly that charging like a wild bull got her nowhere.  She advanced to the slow sneak-up -- practicing this for months, with no results.  Finally, Tessa progressed to what can only be called Retriever Ninja.  With Zen-like concentration, she would focus on a lizard standing motionless for minutes at a time. Slowly, ever so slowly, she would raise a paw; then, with perfect balance, lower it as slowly again, just inches forward.  It was both beautiful and a little terrifying to watch -- like one of those nature programs where the leopard is stalking its prey.  Quite mesmerizing, but you’re not sure you want to see the outcome.  She’d get within a couple of feet, but the lizard, perhaps feeling Tessa’s breath, would bolt.

One spring morning while in the kitchen, I heard a loud thud against the picture window.  I went out to investigate, sure I’d find a pigeon lying senseless next to the house.  Nothing was there, and no obvious marks on the window.  The dogs were having their morning sniff-around and no one was carrying a bird carcass, so I thought no more about it. This mystery noise occurred several more times during the week with no explanation.  Then, while working in the garden, all was magically revealed.  From across the yard, I witnessed a most remarkable event.   
Tess had spotted a rather large lizard sunbathing on the side of the house; she went instantly into Ninja mode.   With terrible purpose, she moved slowly forward inch by calculated inch, every muscle tense, every sense acutely alert.  Tessa froze about five feet from the house.  The lizard was absolutely still; I was absolutely still; the very air seemed to throb with anticipation.  Then, with quivering hind quarters, Tessa lowered herself into a crouch and shot out like a coiled spring. Taking perhaps two large gallops, she launched herself airborne and smashed headlong into the side of the house!  I was momentarily stunned, and then raced towards the scene, sure to find a concussed, if not comatose, Retriever.  Next thing I knew, Tess was dancing in circles around me, tail wagging and full of the success of her achievement.  For there in her mouth was the lizard.  She dropped the poor, confused creature at my feet.  It only took a second for the reptile to realize it had been granted a reprieve, and it raced for safety under the hedge.  Tess was fine with letting it go; obviously it was only the hunt that mattered.  She gazed up at me with that look that can only mean, “I did well, now where’s my cookie?”
Tessa is older now and doesn’t catch many lizards, although every once in a while we are treated to a detached tail.  She still likes going through the motions, sort of like a retired athlete.  It’s not winning the prize as much as the fun of the chase… In loving memory of Tessa Fleur~ originally written 6/09