Besides the occasional “landmine” left by a young puppy, one of the few tell-tale signs that a well-trained dog lives in your house is dog hair…everywhere. When Pritch was young we thought it was cute to sit on the couch with her. But as she grew it became a challenge to snag my favorite seat before she had stretched out and zonked in it. These days we’ve trained Pritch to use her dog bed and understand that the furniture is off limits, but dog hair still seems to find its way just about everywhere.

We tried battling it at first with a strip of duct tape wrapped around our hand, sticky-side out, but that only goes so far. Our vacuum was of no use. I do hear good things about the Dyson Animal Vacuum for pet hair. But I’m a writer, so I don’t have $550 to spend on a pet vacuum. Of course, you can always use a lint brush. And some swear by simply wetting a yellow kitchen glove and running your hand across the furniture.

Recently my wife picked up a Pledge Fabric Sweeper for Pet Hair. I laughed when I saw it, but the thing worked like a charm. Simply run it back and forth with short strokes over the couch, dog bed, etc. and the hair gets deposited in the plastic reservoir. There’s only one downside—when it fills up there’s no way to empty it. You’re supposed to buy another one. But here’s a tip: use your pocket knife to create a small “window” in the clear plastic lid and remove dog hair. Don’t tell Pledge I told you.

Anyone else have any products or tips for dealing with dog hair? Ever use the Furminator? Seems that product has a cult following.

Long before there was Pritch. And before Salty. There was Flap Jack—a mutt who defined the term mash up. He came by way of a family friend who lived out in the country. The product of a local stray, Flap Jack was loaded with fleas and frightened of a human shadow when we picked him up. My oldest brother, Bob, who was the reason we had gotten the dog, couldn’t get close enough to pet Flap Jack for a week.

He was to be an outside dog, and I watched as Bob built a run and a doghouse. And I watched as the frightened little pup eventually learned his name, found trust in those who fed him, and became a dog. I followed the two of them around like little brothers do. And I remember the day, some years later, when Bob told me he was going to college and that Flap Jack would now be my dog. I recall exactly where I was standing in the yard and the sound of the cicadas and the feeling that I had become something altogether different than I was.

I was not yet a hunter, but Flap Jack was. His list of kills ran from the neighborhood ducks to rabbits to squirrels. On one memorable occasion I watched from the dock as Flap Jack and a raccoon got into a brawl that went from marsh to river to marsh. Finally ending when the two animals let loose and trotted off in opposite directions. A truce like no other I’ve ever seen in nature.

And no dog ever whipped Flap Jack in a fight. Ever.

Even cancer got hold of him in, of all places, the nuts. I remember that day, too, standing in the yard with my dad who was a physician. Flap Jack was running after a stick I had thrown, and my dad said, “Dave, have Flapper’s balls always been that big?” A few days later they were removed.

But that dog continued on. Still afraid of any human except the ones who fed him. Still terrorizing the neighborhood wildlife.

I remember when I found Flap Jack dead. I was getting ready to go to school and when I looked out on the back porch he was there. Lying on the cement. Stiff. Somehow he had managed to bite his way through the wire fence on the run and get out. Something he had never done in 12 years. He must have known what the night had in store for him.

When I stepped onto the porch I understood death as cold and rigid and unfair. But, most of all, I understood that I had lost my dog. I cried, sobbed, heaved until it was time to go to school. I started crying all over again when school was over.

That was 23 years ago today. I still miss that dog.

Today I’m pulling a letter from the Man’s Best Friend reader mailbag. It’s a question I hear often and a problem I’ve experienced myself. Here’s the letter:

I have a 4-month-old yellow lab. The question I have is how do you command the dog once the check cord is off. When we are outside training with the check cord on, Ginger is pretty good with sit, stay, come. When we take her outside to go to the bathroom she doesn’t listen at all. It’s like she knows the check cord is off and does whatever she wants. Sometimes she won’t acknowledge her name. I know the answer to my question is when we take her outside we should always have the check cord on. I just want to know how to break her of this.

To get an answer I spoke with Mike Stewart of Wildrose Kennels in Oxford, Miss. Stewart practices positive conditioning (no e-collar, etc.) and is known to produce some of the finest trained Labradors in the field. With the young dogs, he spends an enormous amount of time building patience, discipline, focus, and recall while instilling a relationship that fosters a biddable nature. Stewart normally gives a pup only three or four retrieves a week! You’ll notice his training philosophy runs counter to much of the typical advice given on the subject. Here’s just a snippet of what he had to say:

Don’t set your expectations too high for a 4-month old pup. Their attention span is short and they always opt for whatever is most interesting. Keep your distances for recall short, enthusiastic and always have a reward ready for proper behavior.

I don’t use check cords. It’s a crutch and dogs learn, as your dog has, to behave one way when the check cord is attached and quite another when free. I would be totally focused on teaching the pup his name, developing eye contact, and developing patient behavior before a reward is received such as food or a retrieve.

Begin by getting your pup accustomed to coming to the whistle for a small treat. Condition this behavior to the point of habit, anytime, anywhere. Detach the check cord and replace it with a steady tab, a short lead about 8 inches long that can be used when necessary. Really, I don’t ever have my pups at 4 months old off lead very often, only for airing, a short retrieve, and maybe to hunt a bit of cover for a tennis ball. Otherwise the pup is on lead with me all the time. Soon my pup realizes everything good occurs with me —affection, treat, a retrieve.

Start over with your pup practicing recalls for treats. Introduce the whistle. Provide lots of exercise for your puppy before the training session and do not put your pup in the situation where he can be out of control. Get him off the crutch of a check cord as soon as possible.

I’ll admit that I had never heard a check cord called a crutch, but if I’ve learned one thing from the training process it’s that you must find what works for you and use it. And if you’ve ever seen one of Stewart’s dogs, you know his training methods work.

As always, I’m curious of your thoughts on the subject.

Once again I’ve been amazed at the quality of the information shared by the readers of this blog. The training tip contest generated some fabulous advice for all manner of dog trainers.

Among loads of good info, Skipeterson, cwsartain, and Bravetide suggested persistence and patience were extremely crucial as you travel down gun dog road. I can personally attest to that.

Kelmitch suggested not being afraid to ask questions of the many helpful dog training pros, and GunCrazy74 pointed out that joining a local retriever club was the most helpful thing he’s done.

While Blitz simply stated, “Get an e-collar and learn how to use it.”

The runner up prize was awarded to sanjuancb, who offered this helpful tip: When keeping track of hounds in the woods at night simply attach a glow stick to their collar. It’s also not a bad idea for any dog owner who is airing out their pooch in unfamiliar, unlit areas, such as on a hunting trip at night.

But the winner is Del from KS. He trained his German Shorthaired Pointer, Jill, to sit whenever she approaches a road. To do so, he started working her on a dead end street without any traffic. He had her sit on the leash whenever they approached the road and made her stay until he said come. Now when off leash and approaching a street before Del she’ll sit and wait. The benefits are obvious. As Del says, “If your dog gets hit by a car then all else is moot.”

No matter if you have a couch warmer canine or a turbo charged hunting dog, that’s advice that can go a very long way.

Congrats to the winners. Send your mailing address to MBFCONTEST@gmail.com, and I’ll load up the goods and ship them your way.