Buck was a Labrador retriever, big, rangy and dark as night. Granted, the name Buck was by no means original, but one that to me--recalled from a youthful passion for Jack London--implied a remarkable dog. From day one, my Lab justified his name.

He was born in the Southeast, sojourned in the Midwest, and spent his peak years in the Rocky Mountains. He adapted readily to each of many residences, restrictions, and ventures into, for him, strange and unknown worlds. As long as we were together, high chukar country was as good as coastal duck marshes, and rooting out roosters from swamp edges matched gunning geese on western waters.

Certainly Buck's background was pivotal in his affinity for people, his attachment to me, and his often amazing ability to focus on my actions of the moment. He had been hand-reared, the result of a mammary gland infection that almost killed his mother. His breeder spent long hours caring for the sizable litter--that devoted woman lavished all possible attention on the pups, and her concern didn't stop when the time came to sell the litter.

The passage of years has not dimmed my recollection of her grillings to determine my suitability to own one of her dogs. For a small-time breeder, she told me, money was not the sole point; where she placed each pup was the main issue. She produced a litter of her Labradors only once every year or two, and most pups went to professional trainers. I have no idea why the woman decided that I should have one of her dogs, but she lived by her word and sold me a pup at a fair price.

Although she gave me my choice of the remaining puppies, she picked up a squirmy, pink-tongued bundle of black fur and said, "I can't tell you why, at least not in a way that would make sense, but I think this is the one you should take." Then she placed the pup that would be Buck in my arms and added, "It's up to you."

Did the breeder experience a serendipitous moment before she handed me that particular pup, and did I apply greater-than-usual sense in accepting her choice?

Or was it a typical puppy-selection crapshoot--given similar experiences, would another male from that litter have turned out much the same? In truth, the why of how I came to hold a certain pup doesn't matter; what counted then, and still counts, were the results.