While Pritch’s training is progressing nicely, I’ve noticed a bad habit starting to develop. During our sessions, Pritch will fetch a dummy, come running back, and then often blow right by me like I’m invisible. She usually gets about 10 yards past me before she starts frolicking. In these cases, I reel her in with the check cord but am unsure of the proper way to correct the problem. (To see an example just click on the video.) At its worst, Pritch will make a large half circle on her way back to me, sometimes dropping the dummy and not returning.

For help with the problem I asked a professional trainer, Pamela Owen Kadlec, author of Retriever Training for Spaniels and owner of Just Ducky Kennel in Edgefield, S.C. Here’s what she had to say:

“This is a common problem and one that is fairly easily resolved with some repetitions. I teach the obedience separate from the retrieves in these cases and enforce 'Here' more than any other command.

"Using the check cord, take her on walks and command 'Here' at random times. Keep her in check cord range so you always have control. While she is heading off in one direction you change directions and give a tug on the check cord. When she comes running, tell her 'Good Here' and give her an ear rub. Release her and go off walking again. Repeat this exercise until she starts to focus on where you are not the other way around.

"When you return from your walk, toss her bumper a few yards, keeping the end of the check cord in hand. As she comes back, side step and do whatever you need to do to block her from running past you. Don't worry right now about her dropping the bumper, just getting her to come when called. If she insists on avoiding coming in give her a tug on the check cord. If needed you may need to pick her up by the scruff of her neck, lift her completely off the ground, make eye contact and tell her, 'Here'. Set her down and still holding the check cord, back up giving her short tugs on the check cord, say 'Here' and when she comes in, say 'Good Here' and praise her.

"Toss another bumper and try again. Only do this until she comes in one time, with or without the bumper.”

What struck most about Kadlec’s advice was something I continually forget—THE BASICS! I can’t expect a perfect retrieve if I haven’t nailed down the “Come” or “Here” command. Sure I’ve worked on it, but like many, I’d rather be working on the real fun stuff. Now I know better. If you have any other suggestions please feel free to join in the discussion.

As I start the long journey forward with Pritch I often find myself thinking about dogs past. There was Flapper, a mutt that truly defined the term "mash-up," but it was Salty Dog, a yellow Labrador with middling retriever skills, that provided the bulk of the memories—some of which are now legend in my family.

When I was 14 and Salty was just over a year old, he developed a bad habit. He would often bolt from the yard in the middle of a training session and not return until the following day. They were anxious times, and no matter how hard I tried to control him I couldn’t. Our vet suggested that neutering Salty would curb the problem. Since we had no intention of breeding him we figured it was best for all involved. But a few weeks after the big snip, I was working with Salty in the front yard when he took off for the hinterlands. I went running after him, but my teenage legs were no match. As usual, my mom and I piled in the car and went looking for Salty. And as usual, we had no luck. Back at home, there was a message from the vet on the answering machine. (This was long before cell phones.) Turns out Salty had shown up outside his office door—a 2-mile trip that involved traversing a busy road—slobbering on the glass until they invited him in.

We picked Salty up and returned home. But a few days later he hightailed it yet again…and about an hour later the vet called. Salty was sitting in the waiting room. The next week, same scenario. This time my dad drove me to the vet’s office. On the way home, I asked my dad why the dog would be so intent on running to the vet’s office when most dog’s hated going. With a bit of hesitation, my old man answered, “Maybe he’s looking for his nuts.”

Maybe he was, because until we installed an electric fence Salty would often take a jog to the vet’s office. And every time I went to retrieve him I thought, who can blame him?

I can’t imagine youth or adulthood without a dog, if not only for the companionship but for the adventures and stories that come with it. I’m sure you all have some canine tales. Feel free to share.

Before I brought Pritch home a few months ago I hardly knew anything about clicker training. As I’ve mentioned, I had been out of the game for some years and many of my early mentors were devoted to old-school training methods. So yesterday morning I watched with interest when clicker-guru Karen Pryor was introduced on “Good Morning America” to give a demonstration and shill for her new book, Reaching the Animal Mind: Clicker Training and What It Teaches Us About All Animals.

I’ve done some research and understand the basics of the method, but for those of you who haven’t, here is what the publisher of the book has to say:

“Karen [Pryor] can teach anyone to train animals with a cheap, plastic, handheld clicker, rewarding wanted behaviors—click!—and ignoring the unwanted. No leash-jerking. No pushing. No smacking. Animals quickly learn that one behavior gets them a reinforcing click and a bit of food, and undesirable behaviors get them, well, nothing at all. Given the choice, animals quickly focus on what works and abandon what doesn’t.”

I will also say that Pryor seems to be a self-promotion savant, as she has cornered the market on anything clicker. Want to train your parrot? Get a clicker. Want to train your rat? (I’m not making this up.) Get a clicker. There’s even a book called Positive Gun Dogs (though not written by Pryor) about clicker training. And while I love the idea of force-free training, especially with a spaniel, I just can’t seem to wrap my head around this method in a hunting situation.

So, herewith the Hump Day Discussion, my question is this: Is there a serious place for clicker training with gun dogs? Does a clicker do what a whistle can’t? Don’t hold back gang. Good or bad, let’s hear your thoughts.

I was a fisherman long before I became a hunter. And I still spend a large majority of my free time in a boat on the coastal waters. No surprise that when I was a kid my first pooch was a yellow Lab named Salty Dog. We spent our summers in a jonboat exploring the waterways around Savannah, Georgia. And that’s exactly what I want out of Pritchard. I want her to be as comfortable in a boat as she is in field.

That’s one of the reasons I chose a Boykin spaniel. Besides their love of water, their smaller size makes them a perfect companion for my center console boat—not to mention the duck boats we’ll be in this winter. There’s only one slight problem: whenever Pritch is in the boat she wants to jump out of it. Not in the get-me-off-this-thing sense, but more like “Please let me go for a swim! Now!”

So, I’m working on breaking that habit, and I take her out whenever I’m sure it won’t be too rough. At first I backed off barking too many commands as I wanted her to become totally comfortable, but we’re now working on better control in the boat. If you have any advice or just some good dog-boat stories I’m all ears.

And one other thing, it feels damn good to have a dog in the boat again.