Juan Ignacio Trillo Garrigues Updated: Save Send news by mail electrónicoTu name *

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More than sixteen years Pabolo he gave me the coordinates of a breeder of dachshunds and hound of Bavaria, to whom he had already purchased an excellent dachshund. Pipo was yours, Otto mine. I am writing these lines as a hunter that you are. I am of the opinion that, contrary to what is said, behind a great man need not always be a great woman, and vice versa. It happens, yes, but as happen also the eclipses of the moon. And, however, if behind a hunter, or rather, your side does not have nor that to be a good dog always, it often happens -more than in the other case – that a good dog will provide a pleasing company in the field and increase with it your hobby.

That was Otto. With his contagious joy as he saw us walk in house preparing archiperres for a day venatoria. With his company in the field recechando deer, roe deer or even a chamois sometimes. In the waiting, with that fixity marble towards where it was coming from some nasty. Or in the hunt, with the same virtue. Always with his fans ahead of our own. Never thirsty or hungry at the time of hunting. It wasn’t cold, nor heat. Ever. Always at hand and always alert.

Charged well in general, although with “truffle” always more aware of the winds of the soil, which made it difficult for the charges where the amount of cattle was great. Stubborn and persistent, according to the “germanic” race. Extremely brave and with luck, however, not ever having suffered a mishap seriously. I still have etched in the memory on the day that, becoming a deer, went off the cervids fan of najas with the dog hanging materially from an ear that does not go away until they gave it back with his ribs on the floor. And another excellent among many more, with my children taking a macareno in a wait and closed at night and with fog in the early morning.

Loving with all. Never aggressive except with hunting. Faithful to none. A institution at home. Leaves us with a son like him. We were lucky enough to raise him and teach with him for six years that are now. It is also excellent even though hunting the worst (and yet very well-when it comes straight from the “güebos”).

Yesterday, after a painful old age, I had to help him, blind, almost deaf and completely and without hardly being able to already have standing-pity the fucking loss of dignity in old age in an animal – to make the transit of life. I was able to say goodbye to him and pet him while he slept forever, as he sweetly said farewell to me with his noble and nostalgic look. Many hours of field, a lot of sets with you and with your children, Nacho. Thank you for the life that you have given me, my friend -would tell me in silence – and that they never, ever will you go the hobby. You have my son. Life goes on…

I will be costing you with the time to understand Eternal Life without having a good friend of these to the side. I hope and wish that that is already remedied if some day I get there. In another case, I’m going to bore you a lot…


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