And now.... a rant.

Every so often I end up browsing though various dog training sites. It's interesting to have a look at what information is out there, and how different people approach their training.

Sometimes this browsing leads me to sites from the good ole U.S. of A. Unfortunately, they seem to have a nasty little trick up their sleeves for teaching a dog to retrieve over there. It's called a force fetch on most of these sites. What they say is that it involves putting 'pressure' on a dog that is only released when the dog picks up the dummy - let's cut the bullshit though, what they mean is that they cause the dog discomfort, or out and out pain, which the dog only escapes by working out it needs to pick up the dummy. They might place a pencil or dowel between two of the dog's toes and then tighten a loop of string around the toes, twist or pull the dog's ear, attach a lead spring clip to the ear and pull, or go hi-tech and zap them with a shock collar. I try not to read these articles, but every so often I end up looking and I am always left feeling deeply saddened for their dogs.

Quite frankly, this 'training method' is completely alien to me. My approach has always been to use positive methods and to build on the instincts Henry has, teaching him rather than hurting him. Henry found the idea of a retrieve very odd at first, so we clicker trained it, breaking each step down and working up to a complete retrieve slowly and patiently. You can see the results at the end of this post. It may not be so macho or dramatic, but it's been bloody effective. And I have a dog that trusts me, and can still look myself in the eye in the mirror every morning. The idea of deliberately causing him pain is one that fills me with revulsion - as do the 'trainers' peddling this outdated crap. Shame on them, with their weasel words and their shiny smiles.

I am sure that there are people out there who would have had Henry being shocked from here to the middle of next week with battery powered collars, would have booted him from pillar to post and would have given up a long time ago. I hope that his continuing progress will serve in a small way to prove these people wrong, as he continues to learn his job, and carries it out with a wagging tail rather than a stressed expression. I hope that as he runs back to me to deliver a retrieve because he wants to bring the bird to me rather than because he's afraid of what will happen if he doesn't, it will be another demonstration that you don't have to be a bully to train a dog, and that discipline does not have to equal pain. And I hope that the 'trainers' out there twisting ears and shocking their dogs meet someone bigger and stronger than them, who decides to put some 'pressure' on them.

Annnnnnd - breathe...

FLOOD!

I'm not saying it's been rainy here, but today's walk might have been easier if undertaken by boat...

Henry does it at last

Yes, Henry can now really call himself a working gundog, as since last posting he has been out on not just one, but two shoot days. What a little star he is.

On his first day, he stayed mostly on the lead (which he greatly disliked, being a dog who likes to be in on the action) but was allowed off on a couple of drives in the afternoon. He immediately attached himself to two more experienced dogs and did what they did - not ideal from my point of view, since he wasn't actually with me (!) but he was learning the ropes and doing it well. We can work on the rest - what mattered to me was that he was doing what he was supposed to, and was totally unphased by all the noise, gunshots, other dogs and so on.

On his second day he was off the lead for most of the day. He isn't too great at stopping (he tends to complain - loudly) but he is hugely enthusiastic (common comment - 'He's keen, isn't he!' as I am towed from drive to drive). He also paid a bit more attention to me (well, a little bit more attention): indeed, at one point my friend and I took our dogs (she has a gorgeous 12 month old Springer named Purdey) to work along a hedge and both of them really were fantastic - listening, going where they were directed, coming back on the whistle. If only we had a video to prove it!

The best thing about this shoot is how relaxed and friendly it is. None of the dogs are perfect (Henry was not the worst behaved!) but it really doesn't matter. I think many people can feel intimidated about taking their dogs out (I know I did!) and worried about their dogs misbehaving. Well, of course you should train your dog, and of course different shoots have different standards, but they don't necessarily have to be pod puppies, perfect in every way. If you can find the right shoot, then go for it. I'm so glad I did.

Snow puppy

I seem to have a real gundog

Well, almost.... Henry and I are just back from our first shoot!

Sorry no pics, this was not exactly planned and I didn't have my camera with me...

So, this morning I drove up to my parents' house in Leicestershire, and when we arrived I took Henry to Bosworth Battlefield for a walk. We saw this group walking towards the path towards us, I thought they were ramblers so put Henry on the lead... but it turned out they were a load of beaters and guns about to start a drive. Got chatting to a nice man (Mike) with a cocker called Charlie, and he asked if I'd like to tag along for the last couple of drives! So Henry and I have been beating this afternoon!

Hen was quite good, he did whine a bit, but just through excitement. I kept him on the lead, and we ended up stood quite close to a gun, but he was ok. At the end of the last drive I let him off, he was off in a flash to meet all the other dogs and thoroughly investigated the pheasants (and tried quite hard to pinch a squirrel someone had shot). In fact he ended up in the game wagon.... I am taking this as a sign he wants to go again. He liked it so much that as we walked away and I let him go, he turned round and tried to get into the game wagon again - the shame! But someone caught him and so all was well!

We can't have been too much of a hindrance as we were invited along again - although sadly they shoot during the week and are 100-odd miles away from me, or I would definitely go. Everyone was really welcoming and even though Hen was not on his best behaviour no one seemed to mind.

So I am just sitting while my dog walking coat goes around in the wash - it looked a bit mucky after all that climbing through the woods... All that worry about being properly dressed, and I end up wandering around in a bright green puffa jacket...

I don't suppose they will see this, but a big thank you to Mike, David the shoot owner (who looked a bit non-plussed to have gained a beater halfway through the day, but didn't seem to mind!) and all the other lovely people who I spoke to!

Can't stop grinning!

The Balloon of Doom

Something that happened a while back, that I remembered this morning...

So, I walk Henry around the fields at work before I start work each morning. So you have to imagine that on this occasion I was wandering round frozen fields in a smart skirt, tights, wellies, and something of a daze (I really don't do mornings).

As we wandered I noticed a deflated foil balloon caught in the hedge - one of those ones you can buy for people's birthdays. Henry was quite interested in this, but left it and on we went.

On the way back it occurred to me that really, I should pick the balloon up and bin it. After all, it looked messy and besides that, some poor groom might have to try and lead a horse past it later. With the special equine sixth sense in such matters, any horse would instantly recognise that balloon as a cunningly disguised pony-eating monster and all manner of trouble would surely result.

Of course, as soon as I showed an interest in the balloon Henry had to have it. However he was too slow and I got there first. It was then that his demonic intelligence surfaced. Shooting me a sidelong glance, he shot under a fence into a paddock and started eating frozen horsepoo (bleurgh), ignoring all my cries for him to desist from this revolting behaviour and come back to the authorised side of the fence. Angered by this recalcitrance, I dropped the balloon and started to climb over the fence. At which point Henry, seeing I was stranded astride the top rail, abandoned his snack and shot back under the fence to seize his foily prize, parading around brandishing it like a trophy. Which was when I noticed for the first time that I had an audience... my boss and another director.

It's times like these that make you wonder why dog ownership seemed such a good idea. And I laddered my damn tights too!

Progress

He CAN do leave it... in the living room anyway!





(Just in case you can't see, it's Henry resisting the temptation of a chicken breast. Sorry it's sideways, I don't know how to fix it!).

Now, all we need are some volunteers to have a picnic so we can see what happens... anyone? Don't all shout at once!