I'm going to the dogs this weekend, which means I'm off to the National Pheasant Fest and Quail Classic in Kansas City, which, unlike SHOT, remains mostly a zombie-free zone. There are, however, tons of upland hunting, gundog and conservation-related vendors and speakers at the trade show. So if there are any training questions you'd like me ask, products you'd like me to keep an eye out for or gundog breeds (there are dozens of breed clubs at the show) you'd be interested in learning more about, be sure to tell me in the comments section.
In the meantime, here's an interesting story that dovetails nicely with my last blog post on GPS technology. South Carolina lawmakers are considering a bill that would make it a crime for anyone other than a dog's owner to remove its GPS tracking collar.
Does your dog have a soul? And if you answered yes, should you be able to sue an unscrupulous breeder for your dog's pain and suffering caused by genetic defects?
These are just a few of the interesting questions being raised by a lawsuit now making its way through the New York legal system. This lawsuit seeks to reclassify dogs as "living souls" so their breeders can be held accountable for any pain and suffering the dog endures from genetic defects (A big hat tip to Patrick Burns at the always provocative and entertaining Terrierman's Daily Dose dog blog for the find).
When Elena Zakharova took home her 2-month-old female Brussels Griffon from the Raising Rover pet store in Manhattan, she was excited about the new addition to her family. But, according to the New York Daily News, just a few months later in July 2011, the dog began whimpering and limping in pain. Now, her owner says despite expensive surgery, she will never run or walk like other dogs. Zakharova is claiming that the pet store sold her a dog with genetic abnormalities that could have been avoided if the pup were not bred from other dogs with disabilities. She is suing the business in a New York small claims court for the pain and suffering of the now year-old dog, which she named Umka.
A good, sharp knife is perhaps the most basic item in any kit I carry to the field, regardless of whether I'm training or hunting. And since knives are one of those items that tend to last forever (if you take care of them) and someday get passed down to your children, I firmly believe it's better to spend more money buying a single quality knife than to buy a bunch of the cheap crap. So, when it came time for me to invest in a new small game knife to carry while bird and duck hunting, I decided to go with a custom maker.
Charles May is a Mississippi-based custom knife maker who makes blades of superlative beauty, toughness and function. I first discovered Charles May several years ago while looking for a new big-game knife. I kept hearing praises about his knives from hunters across the country. When I got my first knife, I knew exactly why; they are masterpieces of elegant simplicity. I've been carrying one of Charles’ big-game knives for three years now, and decided to complement it with one of Charlie's exquisitely made bird and trout knives. The new knife has been on my belt since early September and it is every bit as good as I thought it would be.
There are tradition-steeped sacred cows so deeply ingrained in the American sporting psyche, that to admit you haven't actually done them is grounds for turning in your red-blooded American male card and setting sail for France. Things like: shooting a deer with a lever-action .30-30. or owning at least one Zebco 33. However, one of these "musts" I've never completed is hunting rabbits behind dogs.
Pointing dogs, retrievers and flushers are what first come to mind when you think gundogs, and as such they - fairly or unfairly - get the vast majority of the sporting dog press (and this blog is as guilty of it as any). But at one time, back in the sepia-tinged days of yore when small-game hunting reigned supreme, there was only one way to hunt rabbits - with beagles. Sadly, this is no longer the case. For better or worse, we are now a deer nation and the idea of driving out to a small, idyllic family-owned farm, loading up a plain ol' walnut-and-steel shotgun and letting a pack of beagles out of the back of the wood-paneled station wagon is as quaint and old-fashioned as the rotary-dial phone, letter-writing or three channels of television.
What type of dog trainer am I? That’s easy. A lousy one.
But beyond me, it seems that dog trainers fall into roughly four camps: the Disciplinarian, the Whisperer, the High School Coach, and the Softie. (Please note: this informal survey was far from scientific and might be more riddled with holes than wool sweater at a caterpillar farm.)
The Disciplinarian: More often than not the Disciplinarian worships at the altar of the late James Lamb Free, author of the classic (though a touch outdated) Training Your Retriever. The Disciplinarian believes a gun dog belongs in an outdoor kennel, and should come out only to train or hunt. My oldest brother falls into this camp, and he trains nice gun dogs.
I’ve said it many times: I’d do just about anything for Pritch. Even if she seems to pick up one bad habit (chasing deer) just about the time I eradicate a different annoying habit (whimpering in the blind). But I might draw the line at spending some time in the clink.
According to a report from NewsOK, a man from Hydro, Oklahoma took the law into his own hands when his dog was picked up and sent to the pound. Edwin Fry, 73, rode his lawnmower to the pound and used a pair of bolt cutters to free his poodle, Buddy Tough. He told a reporter he was fearful that Buddy Tough would be killed. During his getaway, however, he was stopped by the police. (I’m thinking a lawnmower isn’t the best getaway vehicle.)
My oldest brother got into the field trial game while he was still in college. At the time, he drove an old Buick Skylark sedan my father had graciously passed down to him. On the weekends when I was lucky enough to tag along, I remember waking before sunrise, shoving the crate in the Skylark’s back seat (and wedging a 4x4 underneath it so it sat even), loading the yellow Lab inside, and taking off for the trial. Once there, I didn’t notice ours was the only car in a sea of trucks and trailers—no doubt my brother did.
Amateur trainers (myself included) often worry most about the holy trinity of gun dog problems—water shyness, gun shyness, and bird shyness. Oodles of manpower have gone into making sure pups never show any of these dirty traits. But often overlooked is a problem that’s more common than all three...a lack of a desire to retrieve. And like most problems encountered in the gun dog game it’s often the result of poor training practices. (For a point of focus we’ll zero in on dogs that are roughly 6 to 8 months.)
Since Pritch arrived I’ve been lucky to spend some time around top trainers. And I’ve noticed that while they all do things slightly different, they do share a common trait—the way they use their voice. Sure, they’re all using the same vocal commands, but it’s the inflection and tone in the pros’ voices that has caught my attention. A command is stern and sharp, and it lets the dog know the trainer means business.
If you’re like me, you think your pooch is the best looking gun dog in to ever grace a duck swamp, dove field, or rabbit patch. Now is your chance to prove it.