Volume XVI, Issue IV
December 2002

A Dakota Year: The President's Column
by Lance Hester

I have no use for fat dogs or lap dogs. We have plenty of inanimate objects that already adorn our home, and we don't have to feed them. When we got Dakota a few years ago, I was determined that she would learn to retrieve. She is a yellow lab and has it in her blood to chase things. So when she was very young I started working with her.

I bought a case of tennis balls and tracked-down my old racket. I'd stand on my deck hitting the balls for Dakota. She'd sprint after the balls. The speed was phenomenal. She would nearly always find it in record time. But I'd either end up chasing her around yelling "Dakota come, Dakota come" and playing tug-o-war with a frothy, slimy ball and her jaw, or would give up and hit subsequent ball after ball until the yard looked like tennis lesson aftermath.

When we set out to choose a dog my other criteria was that she love swimming. Occasionally, in moments of hope during my fetch-training sessions, I'd launch one of the tennis balls into the water in front of my house. Several times Dakota barreled after the flight path. She'd see it splash-down in the water and wouldn't break stride in the least. That is, at least until arriving at waters edge. I'm not sure she even got her paws wet. Exactly one-half of the case of tennis balls has drifted to homes elsewhere on Puget Sound. 

She finally figured out the cause and effect of the praise, treats and pain she received during our daily ball chasing sessions. I took her to my mother-in-laws farm one day as a kind of reward for learning to return the ball. It is a yellow lab's 8 acre dream – animals to chase, field to sprint, and mud to slosh in. She ran and ran for miles and miles. It was virtually non-stop launch, chase, locate, and return for well over an hour. We took a break and Dakota taunted the Alpacas while I grabbed a Diet Coke and some ibuprofen. She begged for more. So I returned with my racket and foamy slimy tennis ball to my spot near the field's gate. I hit the ball long; I hit it short; I hit it to long grass and short grass; I even sent it to a mucky stream that divides the field. She always found it, and returned it with the same enthusiasm each and every time. After nearly 45 more minutes of this frolicking, she dropped the ball near my toe. As I picked up the ball I noticed Dakota was not this time sprinting away from me. She was merely trotting. I held the ball and watched her moving toward the field. She was limping. I had overdone it. Guilt and fear overcame me and we stopped playing immediately. (But I was relieved after her first nap that the limp was gone.)

The next day my cousin Ron came over for Sunday dinner. Ron's an outdoorsy, hunter/fisher type of guy and exclaimed that he had an idea for my expressed laments of having a lab who wouldn't go in the water. He disappeared for a while and returned with a suspicious black plastic bag and a fishing pole. Please don't ask me why he had stored this, but he set down the pole and opened the bag and revealed a chilly duck wing that he had kept in his freezer. He called Dakota over, put the tennis ball in his pocket, and had her sniff the wing. She went nuts (more nuts than normal) sniffing it, picking it up with her mouth and tossing it, and rolling over it. After 10 minutes Ron took the wing back from her. He picked up the fishing pole and tied the wing onto the line just below a fishing weight. Then the three of us walked to the gravely beach and he proceeded to cast the line. Dakota instantly pounced her way into the water. She appeared as natural and fast as an Indo-Pacific Sailfish.

Now, three years later, I can say that I rarely have to buy new tennis balls. Dakota literally wears them out before she loses them. She loves the chase, and I've never seen a faster swimmer. She really lives for this kind of activity. To think she'd have nothing to do with the water for the first 6 months of her life is now unimaginable.

Our WYLD calendar year began October 1. It's going to be a great year. We're going to have a Dakota year. Here's why:

• We've got a committee of folks who are in charge of long-range planning. They're going to be looking at programs that have been around awhile. They will analyze what programs should keep chasing the ball, and which ones might be starting to limp. They'll report on giving those things that are starting to limp a break – maybe for good, or handing it off to another area of the WSBA to manage. 

• Just as I was persistent, patient, and determined to teach Dakota to return the ball, the WYLD will remain focused again this year on the WSBA's efforts related to "professionalism." Our first ever Bridging the Gap Conference addressed this incredibly well, and I am ecstatic about President Dick Manning having created the Professionalism Committee. The young lawyers of this state will be those most directly impacted and assisted by this emphasis.

• And finally, don't be surprised to see us try something new. Our Board of Trustees is fabulous, open-minded, and unified in our commitment to make the practice of law better and better for young lawyers. Basically, we're a bunch of duck wings who will take jabs at trying the impossible, shedding the stale for a fresh approach. New paradigms shouldn't surprise anyone this year. And this will start with involving you, the membership.

If you've ever wanted to get involved with the WYLD but didn't really know where to turn, turn to me now! E-mail is best. Our enthusiasm is wonderful right now, and our Membership committee will welcome you with open arms. If you are a brand new admittee to the WSBA, you'll even have the opportunity to receive free membership to one WSBA section for a year (visit WYLD ). So try us out; and start by fetching your keyboard and contacting me at lance@montehester.com !

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