DULUTH, Minn. _ He made his first duck retrieves out of the boat at five months old and was flushing and retrieving pheasants a few weeks later.
Last fall, just over a year old, he took over full-time duties from the old master retriever who was approaching 13. The little guy retrieved dozens of ducks and some geese, most flawlessly, some impressively. It looked like Big Grassy Bluebill Hunter was living up to his name.
But as he approached age 2, Blue (so named by the girls in the family because of the blue collar he wore on puppy selection day) showed signs of problems. He became hyperactive more often, getting over-excited at the first sign of retrieving.
Then the "seizures'" started, on a warm day in early May, as he zoomed with a retrieving dummy in his mouth. Not seizures, really, but some sort of blackout that puts the dog into a catatonic stupor or zombie-like state, unresponsive and stumbling aimlessly.
It happens most often on warm days when he also gets excited. The episodes worsened over the summer and continued into early September. Just at the time of his career when Blue should have been refining his field and water work, we essentially couldn't train him at all.
Blue _ a compact, 65-pound male chocolate Labrador retriever _ usually comes around after a minute or two, indicating that it's not canine heat stroke, which usually takes dogs hours, even days to recover from. There seems to be no lasting ill effects from these episodes. He bounces back with most of his unbridled energy, although seeming a bit confused over what just happened.
It's almost as tough for us not knowing what's wrong. Not even one of Duluth's most experienced veterinarians can say for certain what's wrong with Blue. The symptoms appear closest to exercise induced collapse syndrome, a genetic deformity known to affect labs. According to the University of Minnesota College of Veterinary Medicine, affected dogs show signs of muscle weakness, loss of coordination, increase in body temperature and collapse during strenuous activity. Some impacted dogs can tolerate light exercise. But even a few minutes of heavy activity and/or excitement can trigger an episode.
Those fit Blue's symptoms. But both of Blue's parents tested negative for EIC _ his breeder even guaranteed against it. Blue himself also tested negative for EIC, according to the University of Minnesota lab results.
After the EIC blood test came back negative, Tom Dougherty, Blue's vet (until Tom retired earlier this month) thought the dog might instead have Canine Stress Syndrome, or malignant hyperthermia, another genetic, heat-enhanced problem that causes seizure-like episodes in dogs. But Blue's symptoms don't quite seem to match CSS. And, like EIC, there's no protocol or treatment for CSS. Scientific literature on both maladies simply warn to avoid "triggers" such as warm temperature exercise, especially field training and hunting. Although uncommon, the literature notes some dogs have died during EIC and CSS episodes.
A University of Minnesota veterinary neurologist says somewhere between 20-30 percent of dogs that show EIC-like symptoms test negative for the genetic quirk. So either there are similar maladies out there, as yet unidentified, or the blood tests are missing the genetic markers. No one knows for sure. Some experts are looking for a different mutation of the gene to explain these unexplained incidents.
Some people report the incidents happened less often, and even went away, as their dog got older. We're hoping. Until then, any kind of hunting work that might warm his core temperature is off limits. That means no pheasants, no grouse, no sharptails, at least for now.
But, as you read this, Blue will likely be back in a duck boat, waiting for the next flock to come into range, hoping the people in the boat do their job so he can do his.
So far, the incidents haven't happened during water work or when it's cool. I'm scared they might. But I can't not bring Blue along to duck camp. There's just no way Blue could go without retrieving ducks. It's the reason he was bred and born and lives. It's in his fabric, his dog soul.
It's in mine, too. And I don't think I could do it without him.
