This was his favorite thing in the whole world. He is sitting on Dad's golf platform so nothing can happen without him being right in the middle of it.
He could track and retrieve an 80 yard shot, but once I pulled out a pitching wedge or lower numbered club, it just went too far, too fast. Then he would stand and bark at me until I bunted one he could chase and retrieve. Today, when I play golf with the guys, no amount of noise can distract me after years of listening to Devo pleading with me to "hit one for me".
I would normally practice with a 7 or 6 iron to a flag on Neighbor Jim's property (depending on the stiffness of the ever present wind). After 50 balls or so, we would walk out with my shag bag (with all the dogs in tow), and begin picking up the balls. Without any instruction, Devo would collect 3 balls from where they landed and bring them to me, drop them at my feet, then run off to gather more. Amazing, he just knew what I needed and loved that he had a job to do. All the other dogs just sniffed and hung out, but nothing distracted Devo when duty called.