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I’ll start this post by apologizing for the lack of content for the last two months. With that out of the way I’ll share the story of where we’ve been and why.
I’ve alluded to the fact that I’ve been doing a lot of training with Lily. Exactly a year ago I attended a cocker field trial in Minnesota and immediately knew this was a dog game I would be playing. From the beginning I took a different approach to Lily’s training than any dog I have had in the past. She received no bird work early in life, I worked obedience until we both were sick of it and I’ve utilized only positive training methods. This meant attempting to train to a finished level with no collars, and other than a brief 1-2 week period of utilizing the check cord, I didn’t even have a strap collar on during training.
Now, I don’t want to give the impression I’m anti-collar. Heck I have about a dozen of them, but I wanted to see how far I could take a dog without one. I cannot take any credit for this novel approach. When I decided on a spaniel I scoured the literature on British methods and learned as much as I could from these techniques. The biggest influence on this decision, though, was the time I’ve spent with Lily’s breeder Paul McGagh of Glencoe Kennels. I have spent a lot of time with dog people from all over the country, and I don’t mean this as a slight to any of them, but the times I’ve spent with Paul have been some of the most amazing dog training lessons I have ever witnessed. Paul truly has a gift when it comes with his relationships with these amazing animals and it was seeing this first hand that made me want to alter my approach with this dog.
Lily’s training has been a very positive experience and I feel it has forced me to learn, as a handler, more about the canine thought process. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that a number of these training sessions would end with me contemplating adding the collar to the mix in order to smooth out the process. And to be completely honest I can’t say we won’t go down that path eventually.
My plan had been to run her first trial the weekend of April 25 in North Dakota. The week leading up to the trial found us still struggling with steadiness to flush and so I elected to scratch her from the trial in favor of three days of training, with the hopes she would be ready for the Minnesota trial the following weekend. This proved to be a very wise decision as the switch went off for the little dog and outside of the rare break on a low-flushing bird she was bringing it all together like a champ. The Wednesday night before the trial we had a near perfect training session and Thursday I ran her birdless simply to work on control in the field.
Friday I loaded up the truck and headed to Minnesota to watch the first day of the trial in hopes of gaining some insight before our big run on Saturday. The day was filled with incredible dogs. A huge number of dogs were carried over during each series in the open. There was a puppy stake on Friday, smaller than Saturday’s, but with many of the dogs running both days I was able to see some of the competition. After the first two puppies had run I turned to one of the other spectators to inquire about these dogs’ runs and more specifically, what would have kept them from not getting called back in the open…his reply, “Oh, nothing, they would have done fine in the open.” This made me sick about Saturday. When I had first signed Lily up for these trials I thought puppy actually meant puppy; however, in spaniel trials it meant dogs that were under two years old. At 10 months old Lily was truly still a puppy, but the realization sunk in that she would be playing a big dog’s game.
Saturday morning’s alarm sounded much too early and I knew judgement day, literally, was upon us. The puppy stake is usually run after the first two series of the open. Two days of wind and somewhat dry conditions resulted in a number of dogs being dropped during the open, but regardless it felt like it was dragging on forever. Finally the last brace was ran and the trial broke for lunch. We were now about a half-hour from making our debut on the trial scene.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was nervous. It had been suggested by a number of people to take some Immodium with me, and while I didn’t have to resort to that I was pretty worked up. I watched the first couple of dogs run and then decided to get her out of the kennel. We were the last dog to run and so I thought having her out on lead for a while may help settle down her nerves…that proved to not be the case. The longer we waited the more anxious she got. I was beginning to think I had made my first blunder.
It was looking like we were going to start midway through the course and so we walked towards the line as the handler before us sent his dog into the field. His pup put up a bird early and it was dropped, followed by a nice retrieve. Blunder number two had just occurred as Lily intently marked the fall since she was so close to the shot. We followed the action up the course waiting our turn. After the pup’s second bird content the judges decided to head back to the beginning of the course for our run rather than to pick it up where the previous dog ended. By this time Lily was a wild banshee at the end of her leash and raring to go and I was going over every conceivable worst-case scenerio in my head.
After some brief instructions the judges allowed me to take the course. I hupped Lily, stroked her head a few times, told her she was a good dog, removed the leash and we were on our way. Immediately she headed for the area of the fall from the previous dog. I was worried we were in trouble as I could not whistle her out of the area. Blunder number three, in hindsight I should have just left well enough alone, allowed her to hunt it out and swallowed my whistle. As it was I’m sure I got dinged for some whistle refusals and lack of cooperation. After what seemed like an eternity she gave up on finding the bird and started hunting like the dog I’d come to know.
The first bird contact went like textbook with a retrieve to hand. The second bird gave us a run for our money. She put it up and immediately hupped. The bird caught the stiff wind and came right back at the judges and me, hovering over us for a few seconds before landing about two yards in front of me with Lily about 20 yards further beyond. The judge asked me to release her and the pup came charging at me like she was shot out of a canon. She hit the bird, rolled it on the ground before it took flight and she once again hupped, was steady to shot and made the retrieve. I handed the bird to the judge and leashed Lily up. Just like that our first trial run was over In my constant negative view of the world I spent the walk back to the truck dwelling on the first minute of the run as she hunted for a non-existent retrieve. I kept thinking, if only I had kept her away from the line longer, if only I had left her in the truck, if only I….if, if, if.
As I walked back with my head down everyone I met on the walk had nothing but compliments to give on Lily’s run. They were impressed with her style, her steadiness and of course her looks. Every time I brought up the start of the run it was dismissed as her just being a puppy and an insignificant part of the performance. The first few times I heard this I thought it was just people being nice to the rookie; however, the more I heard it the more I thought maybe we had a chance. As I shook off the negative thoughts clouding my judgement I had to admit that I could not have been happier with her bird performance that day.
With a mountain of work waiting for me at home I decided to skip out on the last series of the open as well as Sunday’s amateur. The four-hour drive home gave me ample time to reflect on the events of the day, and I knew I had been stricken by yet another addiction to add to my list. Regardless of the judges decision this cocker trial thing had gotten in my blood.
Later in the evening, after the truck was unpacked and the steaks were on the grill my phone rang with news that Lily had taken second. I couldn’t believe it. The little dog had come through. All the hours of researching breeders, the training books and videos and the endless hours of training had all come together.
For those of you who know me also know that I have a competitive side and I may have been known to note in the heat of battle that second place is the first loser. I like to think that in this case Lily had a first place performance that was downgraded by an incompetent handler, that, and had I won right out of the gate I may not have had the incentive to come back for more. Ok, maybe I’m making a little much out of a puppy trial, but we all have to start somewhere.
For a photo gallery look at the first two days of the trial check out the pictures HERE.
It will come as no surprise that fall is my favorite time of year. Much of what I enjoy occurs during the fall, and I spend the rest of the year longing for, planning for and training for the next fall to come around. That being said, spring places a close second in my rankings of the seasons. As I get older I certainly have started to dread winter more and more, but no matter how rough the winter is, I don’t think I could live in a part of the country that doesn’t experience it. Without winter’s extreme temperatures, and the frozen, snow-covered environment it creates, spring would not seem so glorious. This last weekend the wind chills once again were below zero, yet today’s forecast high is 52. These first sunny, almost warm, days of spring are nearly magical with their effect on the people and animals in this part of the country. Of course we will be slammed back into reality on Thursday when the wind switches back to the north, the temperatures plummet and snow returns to the forecast…but it will be days like today that give us hope that better times are indeed just around the corner.
There truly is something eternally rejuvenating as winter eases its grip on the earth and spring slowly inches closer and closer. One of the spectacles that I greatly enjoy during this transition are the magnificent sites of migrating waterfowl. This year I hope to once again be in the field capturing images as the birds head north to their breeding grounds. In anticipation of this event, I’ve uploaded a gallery of images from previous years’ waterfowl migration:
CLICK HERE to view.
Most of the snow in the area has finally started to melt after accumulating much of the winter. This has helped open up more areas to training, and we’ve been taking advantage of it. I’ve been slowly returning Maggie back to action and she’s been loving every minute she gets in the field:
She’s definitely still a little awkward and sore in that rear leg, but unless you watch closely she isn’t missing a beat. By far one of the most stylish dogs I’ve ever owned, I never had the heart to “break” her to be completely steady. For whatever reason she is easy to make steady to wing and shot, but when the feathers drop watch out:
All the dogs got to work, but with Belle and Lily I’m trying to work out steadiness, which meant it wasn’t practical to carry the camera in the field. Both dogs are doing great and as long as I stick with it I’m hoping to have a couple of steady youngsters by hunting season. It seems like I make that statement every year and never see it through, so we’ll just have to see. Lily is progressing and it has certainly been an exciting process to train her, essentially in reverse, from any other dog I have ever owned. She has been remarkably steady and obedient through her early training and now that we are introducing birds late in the process I just need to stay ahead of the curve:
I’ve posted some of the best pictures from the morning (the light was fantastic) in the photo gallery on the site. For more pointing dogs in action CLICK HERE.
I’ve often stated that the prairie grouse are my true love. Deep down the excitement and mystery of these native birds really does something for me. The last couple of years I was their devoted companion, only rarely straying to chase their Asian cousin the pheasant. Yesterday things once again changed in my life. If prairie grouse have become my true love, then yesterday I was reunited with the mistress that I’ll never be able to quit.
For the last two years I had forsaken this first love, in large part due to Emma’s deteriorating condition. I could justify an upland trip without her, but I think it would have killed her to watch me take the duck hunting gear and leave her at home. Most of this season I spent reminiscing about my waterfowling pursuits but had not acted upon them, always figuring “next year.” As the seasons came to a close I decided that I couldn’t wait for the snow geese to return and set the wheels in motion for a hunt that I’d been longing to have since moving to South Dakota.
Much the same as its bigger sibling the Mississippi, the Missouri river, is steeped in tradition and history. One of those traditions is late-season Canada goose hunting, which prior to yesterday I had only dreamed about. There are goose camps galore strung out along the river and a number of guides willing to share their pit with you for a price. The biggest stickler holding me back with such an arrangement was this last bit. I’ll go on record as saying I am staunchly against paying to hunt. I think it could lead to the downfall of hunting in this country as more and more land is taken away from public access. It was with this great internal moral conflict that I booked a day with a guide for a buddy and me. My rationale was that it was the only hunting opportunity in South Dakota, we would be using his gear and access to his land…that’s how I rationalized it but it still didn’t sit well in my heart.
This would be a bit of a reunion hunt for one of my best hunting buddies and me. Many of you who have followed the site from the start probably have noticed that Aaron and Storm had been absent the last couple of years in the blog. While I had shifted from primarily waterfowling to prairie birds, Aaron and Storm continued to chase the migrating birds. After a two-year break from the field we looked to pick up where we had left off.
The trip almost didn’t happen, as a cold-front moved in on Friday night and brought with it snow, drizzle and some strong northwest winds. After hemming and hawing for about a half-hour we decided to chance it. Thankfully about 20 miles west of Sioux Falls the conditions improved dramatically and we assumed we would have smooth sailing. Unfortunately Mother Nature decided to test our resolve once again, and the winds kicked up and we had to drive a significant stretch in on-and-off white conditions. Finally arriving at the motel, we both were beat and retired for the evening.
Most waterfowling adventures begin in the wee hours of the morning; late-season geese on the other hand seemed to be more dignified and like to see the sunrise before starting their day. We met our guide at about 7:30am, and were at the field after nine. We would be meeting other hunters, which was another big potential issue for me, as I have very few hunting partners choosing to share these experiences with the closest of friends. I was more than relieved when the group showed and I recognized some familiar faces. Thankfully the dog world is rather small and filled with good people. The nine of us set about to putting together the spread:
With temps just two degrees above zero we elected to sit in the trucks, waiting to see the first groups lift off the river in the distance. The birds had been flying around 10:30 most of the week, but with the abrupt change to lower temps they took their time stretching their wings, and it was noon when we spotted the first group. Three from the group offered to take the trucks out of the field while the rest of us headed for the layout blinds. As luck would have it, on this first group, Aaron and I were the only ones with calls in the blind. With a three-year layoff from calling I was a little worried whether I’d still have the chops. Aaron is an incredible caller and I happily played second chair to his Concert Master performance. The flock circled once before cupping up and committing to the spread. As those big birds parachuted into the spread I was falling in love all over again with the majesty of waterfowl.
In addition to the waterfowl hunt I was extremely excited to see Storm in action and had the camera gear along to capture this magnificent dog at work. As some of you have probably gathered from recent posts I miss having a retriever around the house. I love the setters and the cocker is growing on me, but with that being said, there is just something about a working retriever. After the first volley Storm was called on to perform his end of the job:
The action was extremely fast-paced as flock after flock appeared on the horizon. I’d alternate between calling, shooting and trying to manage the camera. Storm continued to do his job with enthusiasm and efficiency:
While we had a lot of success there were a number of geese that got away unscathed. Towards the end of the flurry I’d try to snap some pictures of the birds. Had I had a different blind set-up I think I could have managed some good incoming shots, but the last thing I wanted to do was ruin the hunt for the others with my camera glass causing flares. In this shot someone clearly wasn’t on the bird. This low-res copy doesn’t do it justice, but you can see a wad between the two birds and the shot string behind them:
Having the birds stacked up above us, and so readily responding to the calling and spread, completely fanned the waterfowling flame that had been laying dorment inside. I had moved to this great state to waterfowl, and prior to the prairie grouse obsession, I’d waterfowl hunt to the exclusion of all else, only chasing other birds once the duck season had ended. I can’t take back the two-year absence but I can dang well make sure it never happens again:
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how complicated we make life when at the end of the day it should be so, so simple. We’re always striving for bigger, better, faster, stronger, more money and more power. In the end how much of that will ever really matter? In the end the memories of family, friends, passionate pursuits…and a good dog or six will be what leads us through our dark times. Me?…my New Year’s resolution will be to making more memories like these:
If you haven’t visited the main page in a while we’ve added a number of new updates this week:
- New article on dental care and scenting: CLICK HERE
- Updated Ask The Vet: CLICK HERE
- Updated Photo Gallery: CLICK HERE for a variety of Glacier Wildlife
I have posted more photos from the Glacier Adventure. This posting shows some of the breathtaking views we experienced on the trip. CLICK HERE
There were two disappointed setters at our house today. This weekend was the opening of prairie grouse in South Dakota. Since I just got back from my Glacier adventure it was my Saturday to work, which left Sunday to chase birds. Unfortunately the later in the day it got on Saturday, the more apparent it became that a Sunday hunt just wasn’t in the cards. Looking back at my journals this will be the latest, first hunt of the year I will have had since moving to South Dakota five years ago. This has been an extremely odd year for me, as I thought cutting back on consulting would free me up to do more of the things I had been missing the last couple of years. That certainly didn’t happen over the summer with training the dogs, and I really hope that September’s hunting volume isn’t an indicator for the rest of the year.
For those of you who enjoyed the grizzly bear pictures, I have added a black bear gallery to the site. This beautiful bruin swam across a lake right at us and was the perfect way to start our trip in the park. See the gallery HERE.
This week we will be notifying the winners of the podcast giveaways and we will be posting the newest podcast. I apologize for the somewhat random update schedule to the site; we have been incredibly busy at the clinic, and with fall finally here, I haven’t gotten into a groove with the site.
When discussing my career choices I always claim that the only thing I ever wanted to become was a veterinarian, which is mostly true. Growing up my favorite TV show was Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. I was in awe of the varied wildlife host Marlin Perkins would encounter in such beautiful settings. Had I had the opportunity to be Jim, or tag along with the MoA crew I can guarantee there would be no gundogdoc. I think it is this early love that fostered my interest in photography, and the desire to get close to wildlife and capture a lasting image of some amazing animal.
My Dad and I recently returned from a hiking/photography trip to Glacier National Park. To say the trip was beyond anything I could have imagined would be an understatement. This park, and its wildlife, truly are the Crown Jewel of our National Park System. Each day was completely filled with once-in-a-lifetime experiences and each time we assumed it could not get any better…it did.
There are two animals that I have always wanted to see on their turf in the wild, wolves and grizzly bears. On this trip the grizzly bear wish came true multiple times with some of the encounters coming as close as I’d ever want to get. Almost all of the close encounters came in poor lighting conditions and so while the images aren’t good enough to post in the main sites Photo Gallery, I still felt the need to share them.
This big boy was encountered on the last day as we left the park:
This grizzly was the third we encountered on the famed Iceberg Lake trail. He got incredibly close, reaching a point we had to quickly decide whether to continue or turn around as he was approaching the trail in front of us. It was raining during this picture, but one I had to take nonetheless:
We spent a long time watching in awe of this sow and her cub foraging in this meadow:
This last picture is from the bear we encountered on the last day. It is uncropped and shot with my 400mm lens in low-light. When this bear looked straight at me it truly shook me. I managed to snap this frame, and you can tell from the blur I was less than steady. He quickly went back to eating and paid us no more attention. It was at that moment that I truly realized how fortunate we were to be in its presence and how careful we should have been:
I was fortunate to sneak away for a few days of hiking with my Dad this week. We had planned this adventure last year only to have it sabotaged by Maggie when she developed hemorrhagic diarrhea and nearly died. This year’s trip almost came to an end when Lily rammed a stick through her throat the day before we left. She’s fine now and I’ll save that story for another day.
After an eternity in the car we made it West and I thought I’d offer a couple of teaser pictures. A full photo gallery update will follow when I’ve had a chance to go through these on my home computer. This is my first post from my new MacBook. The screen is small, and so it’s tough to tell how good these turned out (or not).
Less than an hour into our first hike we encountered this friendly critter:
We found him at this beautiful location:
I’ll post more later this week. Any guesses as to where we are?
The site has now been up for two weeks and we’ve given a couple of tours, now it’s time to start with a more regular update schedule. In addition, hunting seasons got underway today in South Dakota, which means the blog will turn into…well…a blog, as soon as I find time to get out in the field.
We’ve added two new ask the vet questions to the Ask the Vet page.
In addition, our local NAVHDA chapter, turned “All-Pointing Dog” club held its first AKC Hunt test this weekend and I managed to follow a few braces. View the photo gallery for pictures.