07/23/2025
Trigger
Trigger was born from my brother John's dog, Dixie, at their country home south of Avalon, Missouri. 4/10/2010. We're not entirely sure who the father was, but we suspect it might have been my dad's dog, Skip. Bryan Anderson, who trained both Trigger and Skip, noted their similar appearances and characteristics. In fact, when I texted Bryan yesterday, he told me that out of 400 dogs he’s trained, Trigger had the best marking abilities, with only Skip being comparable.
Trigger was lucky to even be chosen; he was the last puppy left in the litter. I told John I'd take whichever one nobody picked. John called me, saying I needed to come get him immediately because Trigger had chewed up his Harley-Davidson motorcycle and was on his way to the "back 40" permanently. I called Bryan and asked him to pick up and train Trigger, with the agreement that I'd keep him if he proved to be a worthy hunting dog. After the first month, Bryan called back, initially unsure about Trigger’s potential. However, when Trigger joined team training with multiple dogs, Bryan observed how quickly he learned by watching and mimicking the other dogs, advancing rapidly.
In November 2011, my father brought Trigger to me in Little Rock. It was the first time I'd met him. I had set up a kennel and a dog house for him, but he was a nervous wreck and cried all night. I ended up letting him inside, only to wake up to my feather couch completely destroyed—he was clearly looking for a duck\! Despite the frustration, we worked through it.
Hunting season began shortly after, and that's when I truly realized Trigger’s potential. He was eager to please, an excellent marker, and quite athletic. One humorous trait was his ability to know when to cut his losses on a retrieve. If there was no chance of a successful retrieve, he’d either give up and come back or respond to my whistle. He's the only dog I’ve hunted with who could literally mark seven to eight downed birds. I vividly remember a Specklebelly sailing over 20 rice levees; I thought there was no way he’d find it, but 25 minutes later, after watching him traverse every contour of those levees, he returned with the bird.
Trigger truly thrived when I married Jennie. She brought out his true and loving, personality.
We installed a dog door in the back door, secured by a metal pin, as he was primarily an outdoor dog then. What was so funny was Trigger’s uncanny ability to figure out any lock or door. His reasoning was almost human-like. I had to put hot sauce on the dog door's metal pin to keep him from pulling it out with his teeth while simultaneously lifting the door to get inside. At East Lake, if I wanted him to stay in the house, I had to lock both the deadbolt and the doorknob, because he knew how to unlock and open any door with his mouth—I'm not kidding.
He was my shadow, following me everywhere. Even if I went to the bathroom, he’d open the door and barge in, sitting just an arm's length away as I yelled for privacy. He just stood there and watched. I don’t know why he did that; he simply had to be in the same room as me at all times.
Trigger was not an alpha male; he was a typical beta—incredibly smart and always figuring out ways to solve problems, but never aggressive. I never once saw him aggressive towards another dog, except when one dog was bullying another; Trigger would always step in and stop it. He was, however, the worst watchdog on earth. If a robber entered our house, he’d probably find a tennis ball and drop it at their feet to play fetch.
It's clear how many lives he touched, evidenced by all the emails, text messages, phone calls, and Facebook replies over the last few days. I did the math, and I've spent a quarter of my life with this dog. He was the most loyal companion anyone could ever ask for. I know everyone says their dog is special, and they are, but this is just how special Trigger was to me and our family. Everyone who met him loved him.
Shine on, Trigger. You can chase ducks indefinitely. And while you’re at it, drop a few greenheads off at Buddy’s feet..
