It must be hard, working with a moron.

Never done it myself, but the heelers must certainly feel they have.

It all started several weeks ago, when the wife and I went out huntin' benchmarks. And brought the heeler sisters along.

That's all fine, well and good, since they're good company, and need the exercise. Gave them lots of opportunities for drag races, and for snooping across the countryside. Something the wife hasn't really experienced a lot before.

But she took up the habit of offering them water.

Every single time they were out running or wandering with us.

Sure, it was hot, and we were emptying water bottles like there was a free prize in the bottom of each. But every single time?

You guessed it. They're spoiled.

Been pestering for water almost every run, now. Or at least, the little maskless heeler has. Pushing past her sister to stare in my face. Then staring at the empty metal water bowl clanging around in the back seat. But about half the time, I ignore her. No way we're serving water on each and every stop.

So this evening, while trying to finish up my antelope classification routes, we're running late.

As always happens on that route, it seems.

And this route has lots of gates.

Which means lots of drag races. And lots of intense stares from the little heeler.

By six-thirty I realize we're going to run out of daylight. And accelerate the work. Drive faster (and hence, harder), and mark locations with the GPS and memorize composition of the antelope groups so that I'm only stopping to record data at every other observation.

And no more water breaks. They already lost at least half their chances for drag races, to save time, and there's no way I'm spending more to watch them lap water out of the bowl.

So the little maskless heeler stares. And stares.

She crawls into my lap to stare.

"How can he be so dumb?"

She hops the seat and starts digging for the bowl in back, making it clatter against the door.

And still I don't get the message. Back she comes to stare in my face.

"How can you not know what I want?"

"How can you be so dumb?"

This goes on well past sunset.

Until the last rays of light, I'm still working, still classifying antelope.

And still no time for a water break. Not until we reach the gate at the asphalt, long after the little maskless heeler has given up on finding any shred of intelligence in me, do we stop. For one final drag race.

And a water break.

But there is no scorn in their faces, no derision. Just gratitude that the slow, dumb male finally figured out what they wanted.

They sleep most of the way home, rousing only to see why I am taking pictures of Mars rising over the river.

'Course, I got those looks again as I drove right through our little town, bypassing the house where their late dinners would be waiting.

"How could he miss it?"

After a six mile detour to fill the tank with gas, I eventually found the right route and got us back home.

But it must be frustrating, having to work with a moron.