Three Legs and Spare

At three years old, most people would say that Davy, my American Black Labrador retriever, has hardly been around the block, and that he has a whole life of experiences ahead of him.

But he has endured and seen more in his short life than a lot of dogs will in a lifetime.

As long as Davy has been old enough to do so, he has been a guide dog for upland birds across the country, earning his spot again and again, and reminding everyone who sees him hunt why he will always have a spot in my truck.

No matter what the species, the terrain, or the time of year, Davy shows up ready to earn his kibble.

I brought Davy and his littermate Si home when they were nine months old, with plans to make them a part of my guide string.

Davy learned fast and was a pleasure to hunt behind that first year. He received a volume of praise unusual for such a young dog. Davy quickly set himself apart with his tracking ability and field vision, becoming an integral piece in one of my flushing dog braces for the 2023 season. If I had a wounded bird and needed to grid-search some thick cover, he was the first dog I put on the ground.

In May 2024, Davy got his back right foot tangled up in some wire. In his attempt to free himself, he spun and only tightened the noose on his foot. When he realized his foot was not coming free, his thrashing resulted in a break about halfway up his leg before I could get him free.

The veterinarian delivered some disconcerting news. There was potential nerve damage to the foot because of the tension to which it was exposed to during the struggle. That meant attempting to pin the bone and spend the money on the chance surgery would work, or amputate.

My reaction was probably one that most people would have in this situation, knowing the life of your companion would forever be altered, and there was nothing you could do to turn back time.

What kind of life would a three-legged hunting dog have? Even if he never hunted again, what would his quality of life be? Growing up on a farm, if a lamb or calf breaks a leg, it is almost always beyond saving.

All those thoughts raced through my head, with the guilt feeling heavy on my shoulders. I couldn’t let Davy be another one of those instances. And no matter the recovery process or cost, I had decided that it was important to me that Davy knew I wasn’t going to give up on him.

The doctor told me that with the possible nerve damage, even surgery to pin the bone and save the leg could end up in an eventual amputation down the line anyway. Additionally, the break was above the joint, turned out to be very sharp and jagged, and would be hard to rejoin.

Even if we did attempt to mend the bone, surgery could be unsuccessful and cause a more traumatic experience for Davy.

With amputation seeming like the logical option, I still wanted to do my due diligence. I began to read up on the recovery involved, and sought advice from anyone else who had experienced something similar.

The feedback I received was overwhelming. From bird-dogging friends, and responses to various posts I had made in Facebook groups and online forums, the general consensus was this: It was a much less drastic happening than I had imagined.

A comment I will always remember read: “Dogs are born with three legs and a spare.” Then came stories of times afield that people had shared with their three-legged companions, and pictures of them still able to do exactly what they live to do: Hunt.

Anyone who owns a hunting breed knows that a dog without a job or ability to pursue game is lost in life. Without purpose. Even more than it is for us as hunters, it is their identity.

With newfound hope, given to me by the support of fellow houndsmen and hunters, I was even more convinced that no matter what the journey entailed, Davy deserved the chance to take it. That I owed him that and more.

I made the decision to go forward with amputation surgery, hoping that Davy’s youthfulness and exuberance would help him make the adjustment. After all, he had already survived Parvo against the odds. Was he really going to let a setback get in the way of what he loved to do? No way.

Surgery was successful and swift, and Davy didn’t miss a beat. With some medication and daily treatment of his wound, the vet promised he would be back to doing what he loved to do by hunting season in a few short months.

From what could have been a career-ending accident for dogs in his line of work, Davy proved there is no match for determination and grit.

Now, more than ever before, Davy had something to prove. Our bond had never been stronger. And I think that in some way, he understood what I had done for him. Davy made it his life's mission to show me I made the right decision, and show that he had a lot left to give. He has accomplished it tenfold.

Davy went on to guide the full 2024 season, just five months after his procedure, in a few different states and on various upland bird species.

I had heard from others about how well dogs are able to adapt to a missing leg. But nothing will prepare you for it.

The first time I watched Davy beat his brother to a retrieve was what made me a believer. A fellow hunter made an iffy shot and clipped a pheasant, knocking the rooster down but not killing him.

Davy and Si both marked the bird. Si ran straight to the area he saw it land. Davy stopped for a second, analyzed the situation, and realized if he ran straight to the nearby cover, instead of where the bird landed, that he could be the first one to it.

The bird had hit the ground and headed for the thick cover, as roosters often do. Maybe two minutes later, Davy returned with the bird, his brother in tow.

Davy spent last season mostly pleasure hunting with me and those I chose to share the field with. He may not have quite the stamina as his four-legged counterparts, but it’s a small hindrance, all things considered. If you don’t know beforehand and don’t pay close attention, you likely will not notice he is different at all.

Our journey is far from over. I love the memories we have made, and look forward to many more.

Going on only four years old, Davy’s story is just beginning. He shows me daily why you can overcome anything you put your mind to.

Jack Watring has hunted and guided for many popular game species, from western big game to upland birds. He trains the occasional bird dog for friends or family, travels the country with four bird dogs, and spends every free second in the uplands.