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Hi, my name’s Joe and I’m a dogaholic.
It seems like in today’s world no one wants to be a generalist, we have a need to pigeon-hole everything in our lives. Carrying a banner truly is the American way. We apparently have this in-born need to be labeled, or categorized. We do it in every aspect of our lives, from our political party affiliation to the need to give our race, religion, age and creed on a warranty return form. So, where am I going with this?
I had always felt the need to label my dog ownership, when Emma first came into our lives I was a Chessie Guy. Then Maggie and Belle entered the scene and I thought, I’m a Setter Guy who will always have a retriever. Now there’s a little white devil of a cocker sitting next to me as I type, and it’s made me come to the conclusion that I’m none of the above. I’m just a dirty, muddy-pawed, hair on the clothes Dog Guy. I like ‘em all, and not just the hunting breeds. I like the mutts of suspect origin to the overly bred show dogs…I’m a dog addict. Thankfully my wife is able to keep some semblance of rationality in the house, because if it were up to me we’d be overrun with dogs. I just love dogs.
She doesn’t know it yet but we’re working on adding a Chesapeake back to the house…in a couple of years. If it were solely up to me we’d have a brown dog tomorrow, but I’ve carefully calculated the amount of time needed to slowly wear her defenses down and avoid a divorce in the process. I have it figured to be in the 24-28 month ballpark. The poor girl just doesn’t stand a chance…addicts have a way of getting their fix and we’ll pull out all the stops (or in this case Coach, Kate Spade, Prada, Manolo) that it takes to get what we want.
It feels good to get this off my chest and out in the open for discussion. No more surfing the ‘net looking at puppy breeders’ websites in the wee hours of the morning while Chrissy’s still in bed, or sneaking an extra scratch behind the ear of that dog in the hospital waiting for surgery, or the secret longing to take that little field-bred springer in the boarding kennel home at night to romp with the rest of the crew. I’ve finally come clean and plan to embrace my doggie addiction head on. No more suffering in silence, I’m a dogaholic and proud of it!
Addendum: Does anyone have a home for a homeless veterinarian with two setters, a cocker and a Chessie on the way? When Chrissy read the Chessie bit she mentioned something about “it’s me or the dogs.”…and, well, we all know which option the addict will choose.
We have one week left of the upland season here in South Dakota, and as is the case every year I can’t believe it’s gone. I’ll get out a few more times before it’s over, but it will be more an exercise of getting out than honest-to-goodness hunting. This year will go down as my worst season on many fronts, at least in recent memory, yet I’m still sad to see it go.
In an effort to salvage the year I had planned to head to Texas in February, with a dog trainer friend, but as that trip gets closer it very likely isn’t going to happen. Then, with Maggie’s injury, I thought maybe a quick trip to Kansas in January to make up for lost time; however, that too likely will go by the wayside as she still hobbles on the injured leg from time-to-time and just isn’t ready for a return to the field. Very likely I’ll end up going on a couple of Canada goose hunts along the Missouri River sans my dogs. It is something I’ve wanted to do since moving out here and I’m thinking this year just might be the year. After a two-year hiatus from waterfowling, mainly due to Emma’s condition and passing, the itch is starting to return. It began to surface last spring during the snow goose season and has been building this fall. I’m looking forward to training this psychotic little white dog with the hopes of a return to waterfowling full-force next fall.
The 2008 hunting season will be one remembered for what could have been. We saw some of the best habitat conditions and bird numbers in a generation, but Mother Nature intervened with a wicked sense of irony. The crops were left in the fields much later than normal; heck we saw one farmer combining a field in the frozen snow just this weekend. The fall started with a lot of rain, which was followed much too early by snow, wind and cold weather. We were forced to watch as the birds grouped up much too early and played catch me if you can, reeking havoc on these poor pointing dogs.
We had some good times, the dogs got out and Lily has been started down the path of a hunting dog, but in the end this season won’t be one for the ages.
We’ve had a stretch of weather here in South Dakota that has been unbelievable…or should I say unbearable. I get extremely concerned about outside dogs in conditions like we have been experiencing. With temperatures and wind chills well below zero it just isn’t conducive to being outdoors.
I realize that all of us don’t have the luxury of having our pups inside full time; however, for those of you with outdoor dogs I’m posting this as a reminder to be extra vigilant with your outdoor dogs. Its to easy to throw some food and water in the kennel, make sure they’re still alive and head back to the warmth of the house. I’d ask you to take a little more time to evaluate your hunting partner:
- Ensure your housing set-up is adequate. I’ve seen some kennel set-ups
that I wouldn’t mind living in, and unfortunately, I’ve seen some I
couldn’t believe people ask their dogs to live in. In the northern part
of the country, winter is not the time for open-ended barrels. Your dog’s
housing needs to be insulated in order to trap heat, and almost as important, wind-proof. It’s my
opinion that some of these old dogs that “just didn’t make it through
the winter” either suffered from dehydration or hypothermia, and in
some cases both. Otherwise healthy dogs very, very rarely, “just die,” it may take the sting away to think so, but the truth in most cases is that a lack of adequate housing killed the dog. - I know making sure food and water are available is a pretty obvious statement. With the temperatures the way they’ve been, the non-frozen water part is vitally important. Many, many, many health conditions we see in veterinary medicine are triggered by dehydration…make sure the water is clean, fresh and not frozen, and that your dog is drinking normal amounts.
- Make sure they are actually eating the food you are putting out AND that they are passing normal stools and urination. Too little urination may indicate dehydration. Loose stools can be a sign of internal issues. No stools is also a warning sign. Many of these highly intelligent dogs become VERY bored with laying in a dog house all day. This can lead to destructive chewing, which can result in foreign bodies.
- Provide mental stimulation. Just because it is cold out doesn’t mean the dog deserves a stretch of solitary confinement. These canines are extremely intelligent animals….treat them as such.
- Keep the runs clean. I know this is a tough one. It is important to keep the runs clean to keep the dogs clean. It’s important at all times during the year; however, it is especially important during this time of year to keep it from causing issues with the dog.
- Take the time to go over the dog, looking for any issues that may have cropped up. Almost all of our hunting dogs are prone to “hot spots” or moist, skin infections. Most people think of this as a summer condition of wet dogs. We will see a fair number of these issues in the winter months as well. The dog goes out in the snow, has it stick to the coat, goes back into the warm dog house, snow melts, coat gets wet, skin gets irritated and voila, hot spot.
This is always an odd time of year in the veterinary profession. A surprising number of people choose the holidays as the time to say good-bye to their pets. I think, in this part of the country, it is a three-fold issue: often times families are together and those who want a chance for one last good-bye have returned home, another factor is our weather and the fact that the first real cold/snow snap usually results in some folks putting to sleep older dogs that just can’t handle the conditions. The last phenomenon is one I personally don’t understand, and those are the people that use the holidays as a buffer to the family. I know of more than one veterinarian called out on “emergency” on Christmas Eve to put a pet to sleep while the rest of the family was at Christmas Eve service. The hope being, I presume, that everyone will forget about Fluffy while opening the bounty under the tree. Whatever the reasons the number of euthanasias we perform at this time of year got me thinking about the following piece I actually started in the fall and just hadn’t posted:
By my nature I’m a pessimist and “worst-case-scenario” individual. When I was very young my grandma gave me a stuffed animal called a worry bird, which I was supposed to rub so it could take my worries away, because in her words “I was too young to worry that much.” So take this post with a grain of salt as the gray cloud of my thoughts may somewhat color this discussion.
Earlier this year I saw a family that had three pets under six months of age, two pups and a kitten. All were cute, affectionate and all got along as buddies. It’s a scenario we see quite often, a family gets a young puppy and falls in love, rationalizes if one is great, then two will be infinitely better. Or, the first pup is a devil child and they get pup number two to serve as a distraction and playmate to the first. In many of these cases the dogs do in fact get along well and lead happy normal lives. The tragic part, to me, comes when its time to say goodbye.
Too many times we’ll have clients lose all of their pets in a very short time period. The trauma of the event is so great that many elect never to have their hearts broken again. Earlier this summer I put to sleep a 16-year old Chihuahua who was the fourth in a group of Chihuahuas this owner had, all having to be put down in a very narrow window of time. As dedicated and devoted as she was to these little dogs, at the clinic we thought it would be a matter of days, or at the most weeks, before she brought a new little bundle in for its first visit. Months have passed, and while we see her quite regularly on other business, she insists she has no intentions of getting another pup, too much of her was buried with each of those little dogs, so much heartache in such a short time span. It’s unfortunately a scenario we see repeated with a fair amount of regularity in practice.
So the crux of this post: step back from the emotions of puppy hood and contemplate your multi-dog households. I think with many of these owners, had they had another dog at home to help soften the blow they would have continued their love affair with these wonderful canine creations. As it was they just couldn’t bear the grief. Now, I realize that it is foolish to believe we can plan out life and death events. I just had a close friend lose a three-year old drahthaar to a sudden and fatal illness. The 12-year old matriarch GSP of the house is still holding down the couch in the basement. Had nature followed its normal course the young dog would have had years and years of success in the field, but as it was Mother Nature had other plans.
From a hunting prospective we will occasionally see clients with multiple aging dogs and none in their prime to shoulder the load. Again a product of the thought that one is good, more will be better. In some of these cases, when the dogs are gone, not only are these people unwilling to have their hearts broken by a new canine companion, but often they walk away from the past time they so dearly loved and devoted so much of their life to. And while time may “heal all wounds,” I certainly think the scars of this loss run deep. Having a younger dog at home is not a guarantee that these wounds will heel faster, but I do know they help.
The loss of Emma hit me harder than anything I have experienced in my life. I suppose I should consider myself fortunate, because the people closest to me are all still alive and healthy. That being said had I not had the two setters at home I don’t know that I could have gone down the dog ownership path again, at least not in the foreseeable future. As it was, though, we got back up in the proverbial saddle with the addition of Lily. It may sound incredibly morbid but I certainly had the internal dialogue prior to making the commitment, that if life travels its normal course some day this little white devil will also cause me great hurt and loss. I don’t dwell on it, but I think it is a reality we have to consider when we bring these little pups into our lives. Timing should also be a factor into the decision, and hindsight being what it is, I probably should have waited until Belle was a little older to add another dog to the crew…but you’ve seen pictures… how could I have said no to Lily.
If you’ve made it this far you’re probably thinking I’m crazy to put this much thought into this morbid subject, or if you’ve made it his far you’ve maybe had these thoughts yourself. I certainly don’t have the answer, nor a way to prevent this hurt from happening. In the end, I don’t even think having contemplated it in the beginning softens the blow. What I do know is that I have experienced, on multiple occasions, the devastation people go through because they didn’t have this discussion, with themselves or their family.
Suffice to say I’m an internet addict. I spend way too much time in front of this computer searching about endless subjects. I rationalize the addiction because I’m not much of a TV watcher, and I at least feel like I’m expanding my horizons. Granted I waste too much time watching discussions on a few of the hunting forums that amount to grown men exchanging crude and childish banter. That being said I also feel that there are a number of sites out there that truly offer a plethora of good information.
This past week I stumbled on two such sites that were quickly added to my favorites list, and I thought they were worth sharing:
- Did a Cat $h!t in Here — Now I realize the name of the blog may not be the most family friendly. Beyond the name, which is indeed clever, the site is one of the better-written blogs I’ve stumbled across. To borrow from the page’s header, “A journey through the science of scent, the art of search and
rescue, and whatever else attracts the attention of a peripatetic,
overeducated scientific dilettante.” It appears to be a fairly new blog and I was able to read all the posts in one setting…it was that good. While not directly a hunting site, the information covered is just plain good and very well written. - Hunter Angler Gardener Cook — Chrissy and I like food. I often joke that the only reason I take part in endurance events is so that I can continue to eat so well…the scale also has reflected that theory as I recover from this stress fracture. We’ve come a long way since that first apartment where tuna casserole and Hamburger Helper were frequenters of the menu. My only contributions in the kitchen are during our wild game meals and manning the grill. With that in mind, I’m always looking for new insight into expanding those horizons. I saw this site mentioned on Birdogdoc’s blog and took a peak. The title really says it all and the site contains recipes and discussions on food with a wide range of topics. In addition there are a number of links to equally good sites.
With the weather taking a turn for the worse I’ve been able to do some work on the site this week and contribute a few updates:
- New Ask the Vet — In this week’s questions we examine two unique issues. The first
question deals with carpal hyperextension and the ramifications to a
working dog. In the second we look at a frustrating nail condition and
delve into the subject of bringing in a specialist to help with a case. Read More Here. - Photo Gallery — I fell in love with these spaniels after spending some time with them. Here are some of the images I captured this year. CLICK HERE
- Case of the Month – Back on track here with a new case. December’s case of the month involves a wirehair with a severe bite
issue. The dog needed a $2,500 surgery; see how we managed the case for
about $10. I also take the time to discuss the importance of
specialists in the field of veterinary medicine. To read more CLICK HERE
We’re trying to get back on schedule with the podcasts as well. I’m hoping to hit a stride with them after the first of the year as well as introducing our first video podcast…stay tuned.
I was scheduled to work a half day on Saturday, and our office Christmas party was in the evening. That meant I had a very narrow window to try to get out to chase some roosters. On top of that, the forecast for Sunday was negative temps, snow and howling winds. Needless to say if I was going to hunt this weekend, Saturday was going to be the day.
One of the fortunate parts of my job is that I get to meet a variety of people with the common interests of hunting and good dogs. Over the last couple of years I’ve gotten to be good friends with one client in particular, who happens to have two dynamic little Pointers. We shared one bitterly-cold, late-season hunt last year, and other than that our paths hadn’t had a chance to cross in the field, because I spend most of my time chasing prairie birds while he chases pheasants. As luck would have it, Saturday afternoon worked for both of us. We loaded up the dogs and headed for an area close to town.
I love the breeds of dogs I’ve chosen…obviously; however, there is just something about a pointer that screams bird dog:
When we arrived at our chosen location, the cover was shoulder to head high. As most of you know, I primarily hunt prairie birds, and one might say that I have injury-prone dogs. So I elected to let Belle sit the field out while we ran Ryan’s pointers, both of which were seasoned, thick-cover pheasant dogs.
We proceeded through the switch grass jungle, and I would never have expected, with a blizzard set to arrive in hours, that I’d overheat in just my sweatshirt. The day was almost too perfect, and with my eternal thoughts of negativeness I figured that meant we’d go birdless. Those thoughts quickly vanished when Daisy’s beeper went off. I had the audio cue; however, it took me a while to find the little pointer in the thick cover. She held pat while I made my way in front of her to flush the first rooster of the day. Thankfully my shooting woes of this fall did not continue, though I was grateful for having the auto and not the over-under, and I broke the ice with the first rooster of the day, which Copper made a beautiful retrieve on.
The action wasn’t hot and heavy, but it was nearly perfect with the dogs going on point every couple hundred yards on a variety of hens and roosters. Somehow Daisy managed to produce most of the successful rooster points, and by the end of the field we were one short of our limit thanks to the little female:
With the sun rapidly setting and a Christmas party to get to, we decided to give Lily one chance at producing our limit bird. We turned the power weasel loose in a low spot with high hopes of the pup coming up with one lonely rooster. Unfortunately though we weren’t meant to end the day in storybook fashion, no fault of the pup.
Counting our blessings for the day we loaded up the trucks, and I headed for a quick shower before speeding to the Christmas party. As I type this the wind is gusting near 30 mph and the windchill is -30…here’s to hoping the season isn’t completely over.
In an effort for improved, current content I’m
trying to answer more questions each week. This week we tackle three
issues: a male with a breeding problem, bathing a duck dog and when its
time to see a vet.
After several emails I’ve received this week I also had to rehighlight the disclaimer at the top of the page.
To see the latest updates CLICK HERE.
I make no secret about it, Belle is my favorite dog. I don’t love the other two any less, and Belle is in no way perfect…but at the end of the day she’s my favorite.
Shortly after we got her, Maggie was diagnosed with a very aggressive Mast Cell Tumor, and after that crisis was averted Emma went through her ordeal with degenerative myelopathy. Even with the distractions, the little dog immediately won over my heart and very early I knew I had a super star on my hands. As luck (bad in this case) would have it, she was pressed into service prior to her first birthday. She always has put a smile on my face and shouldered the load like a trooper.
This year Maggie is once again on the sidelines, and Lily…well you’ve seen the pictures of Lily…is in no position to be asked to be a bird dog. So, Belle is being asked to shoulder the load for her second season out of three total. Her physical ability in the field never ceases to amaze me and I thoroughly enjoy just watching her work.
My first-two-seasons phenom has certainly had her share of issues this year. Her ability to handle grouse, especially these last season birds, has evaporated, and thankfully she is sticking her pheasants like a dream, otherwise I’d have me a pretty flusher. She was such an initial success in the field that I really lapsed on the training front and failed to mold her into the bird dog she should be. At just two years of age I have no doubt that I can get that natural ability to shine through again, but now its going to take some training on my part and learning on hers.
That has nothing to do with the title of the post though. Yesterday I made a trip West to chase the prairie birds. I really need to get a nice prairie chicken specimen to send to a carver who is doing an urn for Emma. At the beginning of the year, with grass conditions spectacular and bird numbers up, I didn’t think it would be an issue to secure such a bird. Now we sit here in December with the season nearly over and essentially ruined by unfavorable weather and precipitation. Yesterday’s trip turned into a one-day adventure; the initial plan was a three-day excursion…but the weather once again had other plans.
I hooked up with my good friend Brad and his highly-animated, and all-around good French Brits. With the road conditions less than adequate, we ended up doing longer swings into fields than we would have liked. We didn’t see many birds, but this was expected of the late-season grouse in snowy fields. As we reached the truck I glanced down at the Garmin Astro and flipped to the totals screen. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Belle had traveled more than 20 miles in the less than three hours we were in the field. It was the first spot of the day, and this little dog was doing her best to get us that chicken.
We let Belle and Mick take a break and hunted Gus in a field that we had a chance to find grouse and pheasants. I hadn’t hunted with Brad much last year, and this was my first time with Gus one-on-one in the field. To say the least, I was totally impressed. The little dog put on a clinic in handling late-season South Dakota pheasants, trailing four birds an incredible distance (including crossing a fence on one) before pinning them down. On the fence bird, I managed to empty my gun on a crossing-shot and haven’t felt like I let a dog down in such a long time. The little pup didn’t miss a beat and merrily continued to find us birds.
Brad and I parted company, and with the weather moving in, and no work scheduled for Monday, I elected to hunt right up until sundown. Belle was raring to go again, and with our lack of grouse contacts earlier, I decided to end the day at a guaranteed pheasant spot. The spot didn’t disappoint, nor did the little dog. Back at the truck I once again checked the GPS unit…it read 25 miles. Belle had covered 25 miles in essentially two hunting spots.
I have been running the Astro for two years and had never really checked this little stat screen, mainly because I didn’t know it existed, and I hadn’t been resetting the information until this year’s hunts. Maybe this total is actually low for Belle, but it still amazed me. Having run a marathon, I know what it’s like to cover that distance in the best of conditions with the best of support and months of training for that one event. My amazing Belle had just done it running through cover, full-tilt (averaging between 10-15 mph) in unforgiving terrain. The feat unto itself was amazing, but the fact that she could have turned around and done it multiple days on end blows my mind.
I know I say it a lot…these dogs are athletes in the truest sense of the word.