Hunting Dogs Can Train the Trainer, Sometimes

You know that electric thrill: your hunting dog slams into a magazine-cover point, and you can almost feel the current surging from his dilating nostrils directly to your heart. Quivering, anticipatory, one leg raised and every muscle tensed. That's your cue, but how many times have you bumbled onto the stage at that point and blown your lines, tripped over a footlight ... your dog panning your performance and birds escaping unscathed and in droves like the intermission crowd at a bad Broadway musical? Here are a few dog training lessons I'm re-learning almost weekly this time of year.

Once he's pinned a bird, I try to help my bird dog Buddy do a great job handling it. I approach from at least an oblique angle to him, not striding right past. He's less likely to break point when he can see me fully, and knows I'm taking action (just a theory, but worth considering). Also, it helps prevent what wolf biologists call "allelomimetic behavior" - the dog wants to move with you, almost in lockstep. It's the school of fish or flock of birds changing direction in unison. Another guess: a trained hunting dog is accustomed to heeling alongside when you stride by. Whichever it is, the problem goes away when you swing wide.

Better still (unless the hill is really steep or I'm really lazy) game birds often hold instead of run if I get in front of Buddy and pinch them between us, he and I "blocking" for each other.

Want another reason to approach your bird dog from the front? He's not right under the muzzle blast and it's deafening effect. He'll have one less excuse for not hearing my commands, even when I miss. Which is often.

Does your hunting dog have confidence in your abilities - shooting, stalking, leadership? Moving to the bird with alacrity shows him you're in charge and will take care of the whole flushing-shooting thing. Maybe I'm anthropomorphizing here, but if Buddy thinks I've got the situation under control, he can concentrate on his job: pointing, holding that point and not flushing. I'm convinced game birds respect assertive hunters as well, maybe because I've done, and watched, the opposite (mincing, tentative, walk-on-eggshell approaches) so often to ill effect.

Finally, I'm convinced the ultimate reward for bird dogs is (drum roll, please) birds. Shoot more of them and you'll be a hero because your dog gets to carry them around, taste those delicious feathers, drink in that birdy aroma, nuzzle a warm limp body with his tongue ... you get the picture. I try to shoot better by having my shotgun in the "ready" position, not port arms, as I approach the bird. I also do my best (barring lava rock, precipitous slope, gumbo mud and bad ankles) to position my feet for where I hope to hit the bird, not where it will flush. Less gun movement, minimal footwork after the flush, and little body twist ensures the best shot. And with luck, a bird for Buddy to (ahhhh) retrieve.

Buddy is no hunting or shooting instructor, but I still learn a lot ... if I pay attention to what he has to say, so to speak.

What-I-don't-leave-camp-without department, volume one: a bandanna. Around the neck, one shirt's worth of additional warmth. Hot days, it's a sweatband. Emergency leash, in blaze orange a great visibility enhancer on your dog, padding for a heavy hunting vest's collar (like THAT will ever happen), bandage, sling, dog muzzle for porcupine quill removal, the list is endless. Get the big silk or rayon version from a western store, not the wimpy bargains from grocery-store point-of-sale displays.