Rocket does fine in grassy plains, but Glendo, with its willows and buckbrush scars him and beats him up. There's nothing like a willow branch slapping your face to remind you of your place in the world. After a few pheasant outings to Glendo, Rocket is slide-lined with cuts and scrapes. His eyes seem to get the worst of it. He runs too fast through the brush. He seems happy when we're out there. But when we get home I can see it's rough for him. His tail is bald from slapping the willows. I'm going to let him sit around the house for a week before we go again.