A few years ago, my wife’s aunt asked if we could watch one of her dogs for two weeks. This was the beginning of my crash course in Gordon Setters.
I get up early. I take my 4-year-old female “Vegas” on a five-mile walk at sunrise to beat the tardy June humidity. Vegas, a country girl who usually jumps freely around a huge, fenced run, wasn’t thrilled about working on a leash in the suburbs.
