"They're in there" was the mantra.
Within a couple hours, I happened into a slow, deliberate chase and eat of a big cutt; it was quickly thrashing the end of my line. But my dog's zeal sent him splashing off the cutoff bank into the creek - sure enough, this caused a furious reaction and the fish popped off.
For Boges' sake, redemption came my (his) way. I later hooked and landed two that each went about 20 inches from the same little pocket upstream of the first hookup. The dog was in the clear, but the myth of big cutts was obliterated. We had confirmation.